Miss Independent
by the.terrorist
Summary: Sasu/Saku. Tsunade once told me that striving to be the best, to be acknowledged, to be renowned, also had a series of disadvantages. But I would have never thought that one of them would send me to Otokagure, serving under the man that once left me on a bench, in the middle of the night, after breaking my heart and killing what was left of my spirit.
1. Prologue

**Sakura's Point of View**

_When I began my medical training, I thought I knew what lay ahead of me: sleepless nights of studying and endless days of practicing, hours spent coped up in the hospital, chakra exhaustion, physical exhaustion, even more exhaustion, and, perhaps the most important aspect, lives that depended on me—dozens and dozens of lives. _

_One would think that would have scared me off, made me give up before I even started, what with my emotional instability working havoc on my destiny. But caring for people was in my nature, and I knew, from the very beginning, that becoming a medic was what I wanted to do with my life. _

_Tsunade once told me, I remember, that striving to be the best, to be acknowledged, to be renowned, also had a series of disadvantages. But I would have never thought that one of them would send me to Otokagure, serving under the man that once left me on a bench, in the middle of the night, after breaking my heart and killing what was left of my spirit. _

_How? You'd never guess…_

* * *

My foggy mind could only barely register the sound of my phone ringing, but little by little, that became enough reason for me to slowly regain consciousness. I opened my eyes, half expecting them to be attacked by the unforgiving light. That did not happen, however, and as soon as I gathered enough strength to turn my head in the direction of the window, I realized that it was still dark outside. Which made me wonder just who would call at such a time.

_If this is who I think it is…_

Groaning, I heavily rolled over, reaching towards the nightstand for my cell-phone and flipping it open in one swift movement.

"Hello?" I asked, my voice groggy. If there had been any doubt to the person on the other line that I had been sleeping, hearing me should have shattered every last trace.

_"Sakura, do me a favor and move your ass out of bed and in my office. Now!"_ the slightly annoyed voice of my mentor sounded through the phone, instantly waking every cell of my brain.

My brows furrowing, since she had been the one to tell me the other day that I should rest, I opened my mouth to retort, but she left no room for that, ending the conversation before a single sound could come out of my mouth.

Although my curious nature seemed to have abandoned me when I needed it the most, like it had a tendency of doing nowadays, the rational part of me took control, and before I even knew what I was doing, I was out of bed and under the hot spray of my shower. I had no idea what could have annoyed Tsunade to such great heights, because she usually reserved that tone for incompetent people—or for Naruto—but I sure as hell didn't want to be the one to suffer the consequences.

Boy, was I tired. I had stayed up late at the hospital the night before to heal a seriously injured group of shinobi that had just come back from an S-rank mission.

As usual, the satisfaction was immeasurable, but then again, so was the exhaustion.

I hurried through my shower, quickly washing my hair and my body of every last trace of blood I might have missed, before stepping out and wrapping a towel around my body. I wasted no time in gathering a heap of clothes and getting dressed, perfectly aware of the fact that it would take me quite a while to make my hair look decent.

Over the years, I had let it grow again, and now it reached down to my mid-back. The problem was that it had a tendency to curl up at the ends in an annoying fashion. Not to mention the fact that I had had to dye it (I had used washable paint, of course, because my pink locks were extremely precious), and get a new hairstyle because a stupid mission had required so, which meant that I now had some stupid, choppy, eye-skimming bangs to handle.

Much to my surprise, the haircut actually looked good on me—because my forehead was normal and had always been normal, thank you very much. But that didn't make my task any easier. Besides, most of the times it looked as if I had a big bundle of pink fur atop of my head.

Did I mention how much I hated that? No? Because I did—and quite a lot, at that.

Going back to the matter at hand, all I could afford to do to it this time was dry it and pull it into a messy bun. Then I promptly made my way out of my room and stormed down the stairs, out of the house that had once belonged to my parents.

I knew I was late from the moment I stepped outside, and I could only hope that Naruto—or any other human being, for that matter—had been in the Hokage's office before me, and that Tsunade had no anger left in her system. Although it was quite selfish of me to have such thoughts, there was no denying the fact that it was better for others to have their bones broken—and not me.

It seemed like luck was on my side this time, because, as soon as I entered the building, climbed up the stairs, and neared her office, I could hear shouts, screams, and sounds of objects crashing against walls—objects which I suspected were empty sake bottles—so I allowed myself a brief second to send a small thank-you to above.

Knocking on the door, I patiently waited for an answer, which came a mere second later, materializing under the form of a rather loud shout.

I looked around the room upon entering, surprised to see Kakashi, Naruto, and even Yamato present. I had a vague feeling that Sai would have been there, as well, had he not been away on a mission.

Confused, I gazed at Tsunade with a questioning stare, to which she responded with one of her own.

_**I think she needs to hear some kind of explanation for being late,**_ my inner pointed out, and for once, I found myself agreeing.

"Um, sorry?" I offered, a small, sheepish smile on my face.

If I were to judge by my mentor's expression, I would say I hadn't been too late, because she wasn't that irritated. However, if I were to look around and realize that even _Kakashi_ was present, I would have to change my conclusion somewhat. But since I seemed to have the choice entirely to myself, I decided to ignore that particular detail and stick to the first option.

The moment I saw Tsunade waving her hand in the air in a sign of dismissal, I knew I had chosen right.

"So… what's going on?" I asked, curiosity beginning to nag at me.

Tsunade heaved a sigh. "I will be as quick as possible," she stated, and then gestured to one of the chairs set before her desk. "Have a seat, Sakura."

Although still confused, I did as I was told. Naruto was occupying the seat beside me, while Kakashi leaning against the wall, gazing uninterestedly out the large window, and Yamato was seated on a chair next to him.

"I suppose you are all curious as to why I called you here, so I'll go straight to the point," she repeated, and took a deep breath before continuing, "It's about Uchiha Sasuke."

There were different reactions from the persons inside the room, but it was safe to say that surprise was a common element. I myself was shocked. We hadn't heard from Sasuke for two whole years, the last information that we had received about him being that he had been successful in his attempt to kill his brother.

We had waited for him to return back to Konoha, and Naruto even went as far as forcing Tsunade to promise that he would encounter no problems whatsoever in his way.

Days passed and turned into weeks, weeks into months, months into years—and he never appeared.

It would be harsh of me to say that I thought he had died somewhere along the road, but that was the truth. It doesn't sound like something a girl that had once been so in love with him would say, but in all honesty, I grew up.

Besides, any feelings I might have still harbored for him died the day I realized he wasn't ever coming back.

Naruto, on the other hand…

"Sasuke? What's with Sasuke? Is he okay? Is he coming back? He's coming back, isn't he? I knew it! I told you, Sakura-chan, I _told_ you!"

He was still his loyal best friend.

It took a lot of self-control to keep from rolling my eyes and from screaming that he was _not_ coming back, because if he were, he would have already been there, but I managed—for Naruto.

"He's not coming back," Tsunade spoke calmly, ignoring his shouts of confusion and disapproval, "Because he now holds a position that has rendered him unable to do so."

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Kakashi slipping his ever-present book in his pocket, but the most obvious reaction was, by far, Naruto's.

"Huh? What are you talking about, baa-chan?" he yelled, waving his arms dramatically.

My teacher hardly seemed affected by his behavior, because she took her sweet time in answering his question. When she finally opened her mouth, though, she surprised us all. "He's Otokage."

At the same time that I choked on the air I was inhaling, Naruto's jaw hit the floor, Kakashi's uncovered eye widened, and Yamato straightened in his seat.

The entire room was silent for a long moment, as we all absorbed what we had just been told. As usual, Naruto spoke first.

"Huh? The teme became Kage before me?"

I rolled my eyes, leaning forward. "Tsunade-sama, how is that even possible?" I asked, frowning.

True, in a certain measure, taking into account the fact that Sasuke was—or had been, better said—Orochimaru's apprentice, it seemed logical that he was the next in line to rule the village. But he had abandoned it, left it behind like he did with Konoha so much time before. Had they welcomed him back? Why? Why with open arms?

"You are the first to hear about this—apart from Shizune, of course," Tsunade said, "And I have a perfectly good reason for that. I need a reliable team to deal with this matter."

"What matter?" I asked, apprehensively.

I had initially supposed that the reason why she had called us there to inform us about this was because we were his former teammates—because she thought we would want to know. But now, I started to lose hope that the situation was as simple as that.

"Soon," she said, dismissing my question, "We will tackle that a bit later. Now, to answer your previous question… Sound formed a council once Orochimaru was dead and Sasuke departed."

"A council?" I asked, leaning back in my seat and crossing my arms over my chest. "Wasn't it a village full of criminals?"

"Sakura-chan!" Naruto complained, and I rolled my eyes.

It was obvious he had understood that the reason why I suddenly became so cold was because Sasuke had been mentioned. I couldn't help it. Nothing that involved him was ever good.

"Fair enough," Tsunade agreed. "I suppose you can—and should, in most situations—judge a village by its leader. However, we do need to take into account the fact that there were—and are—innocent people everywhere, including there." She looked at me pointedly. "Now, it appears as though these innocent people and their council wanted Sasuke back. So, they contacted him—"

"Why?" I interrupted. "Why would they want him back? He was Orochimaru's apprentice. Weren't they supposed to be tired of his tyranny?"

Tsunade shook her head. "I don't have those details."

"Sasuke-teme isn't like that stupid snake," Naruto defended. "People have to have seen that."

"Regardless, Sasuke accepted," the blonde continued. "He took control of the village. And now… now it's time for us to sign an alliance with them."

"Wait, what?" I demanded, stupefied.

Tsunade, however, remained calm. "You heard me right, Sakura. He made an alliance with Sand, which makes him out ally by default, but he wants to sign an official contract with us—and truth to be told, I want it just as much as he does."

Understandable, since Tsunade had always wanted the best for Konoha.

"Do we _need_ that alliance?" Yamato asked.

"Whether we want to admit it or not, Sasuke has done a damn good job there," she stated. "Of course, with Orochimaru gone, the village can develop more normally—I'm not about to deny that. However, I'm sure it still hasn't been easy for the Uchiha to put things in order. It's never easy. But that brat did it. And he did it well."

Much to my displeasure, I realized that I should have known Tsunade would give him credit for what he had done, regardless of her own—or rather, our own—personal relationship with him.

"Yamato, I need you to establish a meeting with the elders—and with the clan leaders," she instructed, before turning her gaze towards us. "As for the rest of you… you're going to Otokagure."

"I can't believe this," I muttered, shaking my head incredulously.

I had such a good feeling the night before when I slipped underneath the bed covers… Four hours later, and my entire life had been turned upside down.

"As I said before," she continued, either ignoring me or trying to make me understand, "We both want to become official allies. That means we have to sign a contract. Sasuke cannot come here, I cannot go there, so what better way to do this than to send delegates? And what better delegates than his old genin team?"

"Yeah!" Naruto exclaimed, throwing his fists in the air. "We're gonna see Sasuke-teme!"

Tsunade leaned back in her seat and seemed to wait for our reactions. I knew better. Tsunade _never_ waited for reactions.

"There's more to this, isn't it?" I asked, watching her apprehensively.

Tsunade glanced at me. "For you, yes," she said.

I nearly groaned. "Tsunade-sama, look," I said, leaning over in my seat, "You know me. You know I love my village. You know I would do anything to protect it. But I don't want to deal with him—I don't want to deal with _Sasuke_."

"You're going to have to work out those feelings you have for him," she said, shaking her head.

"I _hate_ him!" I snapped, my temper flaring at her apparent calmness.

"Possibly," she agreed, nodding. "But you're going to have to learn how to control that, because you're going to spend a long amount of time with him."

"Wait! What?" Naruto screamed in the background. "Why does she get to spend more time with Sasuke-teme?"

"Tsunade-sama, what—" I whined, but she cut me off.

"You know that, between two new allies, there is the necessity of a certain bond. We have decided that Sasuke will send a few of his shinobi here, and that we, in turn, will send somebody there," she explained, and I already knew what was coming. "Sound needs medical help, because Kabuto has proved an expert in torturing and killing rather than saving lives. Thus, you, Sakura, are going to Sound."

I shook my head stubbornly. "I'm not going."

She didn't even flinch. "Yes, you are."

"Think of it this way!" I offered. "No matter what, you must put the safety of your village first. You said it yourself, I'm the best medic you have—you can't send me away! What if something happens and you need me?"

At that point, I had already abandoned every ounce of dignity I had left and started to plead.

"We have enough good medics around, don't worry." Tsunade, however, was less than impressed. "I mentioned this in passing, but none of you paid attention—Sasuke is going to send _a bunch_ of shinobi here, while I am sending only you. Being the best medic in Konoha, you make up for the rest. And personally, I prefer having only you gone, rather than a whole bunch of other medics."

"My ass!" I yelled before I could stop myself. "You're doing it on purpose!" I accused.

"I am _not_ doing it on purpose!" she screamed back, slamming her hands on the desk as she stood up from her seat. "I'm doing what's best for my country! And you're going to accept my decision, whether you like it or not, because that's your duty as a shinobi!"

I glared, even though I knew she was telling the truth. "I already said—"

"I don't care what you said!" she yelled.

I snapped my mouth shut and crossed my arms over my chest.

"Besides," she continued, calmer now, "It's about time you solved your problems with the Uchiha."

"I have no problems with him," I spat. "They were all solved the night he left me on a stone bench, thank you very much."

I heard a chuckle from behind me, but I didn't brother to turn around and see who was finding this funny. I assumed it was Kakashi, though.

"Very well," Tsunade said, capturing my attention, "Then you won't encounter any problems in working together."

Taking in a deep breath to calm my crazed nerves, I decided that the best I could do was accept my destiny. "How long do I have to stay there?" I asked.

Tsunade smirked. "Until I tell you to come back," she told me, looking at me through narrowed eyes.

* * *

_That was how our story started. _

_Looking back, I remember feeling a lot of things. Anger was the dominant emotion. But there was also fear. There was apprehension. There was denial. There was confusion. It was quite an interesting mixture. But more than interesting, it was terrifying. In its clutches, I felt thirteen again—small, weak, and insignificant. The portrayal didn't represent me anymore._

_What did represent me was independence, strength, importance. _

_And apparently, also a certain degree of bad luck._

_Tsunade never did accept any of the excuses I presented her with in the following three weeks._

_So that was how I found myself on a hot August day, following a Sound shinobi to Sasu—no, _Otokage-sama's_ office._

_I wasn't naïve enough to ignore the little voice in the back of my head that said this was going to be a life-changing experience—although _life-threatening_ would be a much better term, in my opinion._

_But I sure as hell knew I was going to fight against it with everything I had. _


	2. One

**Sakura's Point of View**

One of the first—and probably most important—aspects that I noticed as soon as I set foot inside the village was how much the place had changed. I had only seen it once before, on one of our searches for Sasuke, but the change was obvious—the village was _gorgeous_.

There were green, lush plains, golden wheat fields, deep dark forests, and a neat, organized architecture; the buildings had wooden details and were painted colorfully, in perfect harmony with the surrounding scenery and the pungent flowers that adorned their windows and small gardens. The streets were narrow, most of them paved, save for the open center we crossed on our way to Sasuke's office. It was wide, circular, with a large fountain in the middle, wooden benches for people to relax on, and a multitude of stores on the margins.

And the people were happy—they were friendly, they were content, they were _at home_.

I could even go as far as comparing Oto to Konoha—which was a lot to say, considering the fact that, only a few years back, there was no term of comparison between them.

Truth to be told, I had expected that. I had expected things to be different once Orochimaru—and consequently, his influence—was gone.

A part of me whispered that this—everything I was seeing—was Sasuke's doing, but I ignored that part.

Between you and me, I still doubted the fact that he genuinely cared about these people—that he had accepted to be Otokage without have at least _one_ selfish reason hidden up his sleeve. Because that was Sasuke. Always thinking about no one but himself.

Maybe I was rushing, jumping to unfounded conclusions, but my mind couldn't stop judging him. Blame the fact that I had known the Uchiha for so long and that I had been disappointed more times than I could count.

But if miracles _did_ exist and he _had_ changed for the better, I was willing to give him a second chance. After much deliberation, I decided that would be best—not just for me, not just for my mission, but for the rest of the world and the memory of Team Seven. After all, everybody deserved one, right?

Heh, it wasn't like he'd need _my_ second chance.

But that's beside the point.

I was currently in his office, listening—though not really—to Naruto's unstoppable rambling. Otokage-sama—and I swear to God, I was about to destroy something if one more person addressed him as such—wasn't there yet; apparently, he was busy with something. The man that had showed us in had refused to let us know what that something was, even after my blond-haired teammate decided to yell in protest.

"And I _still_ can't believe the teme became Kage before me! It's like…"

I tuned out the rest of Naruto's speech, like I had been doing until a couple of seconds before, and stood from my seat, walking over to the large window overlooking the village. The view was breathtaking. Night reigned over the valley; tiny sparkling dots were scattered among the inky darkness of the sky, but their brightness was diminished by the soft glow of the streets lamps below. In the distance, though, right above the darkened forest, dawn was breaking; stripes of fiery orange blended smoothly upwards into red, then purple, before disappearing in the blackness of the night.

I still had trouble believing that this was going to be my home for the following several months.

Of course, there was a part of me—a piece of the old Sakura who cared about everybody but herself—that was happy to be able to do something for these people, to help them, to compensate them somehow for the years of tyranny they had endured. This part was the one that had pushed me to become a medic, that had been following me throughout the duration of my career.

Under normal circumstances, such a mission would be ideal. But the "Sasuke Problem", as I had taken a liking to calling it, turned everything upside down.

I didn't want to spend time with him. I didn't want to work with him. I didn't want to be there, in his country, under his lead. After realizing that he plain-out didn't want to come back to Konoha, even after having completed his goal, every feeling that I might have still held for him disappeared, and was replaced by the exact opposite: disappointment, anger, hate.

It was amazing how, after all that he'd done, it was the simplest of actions that had opened my eyes. You would have thought I'd hate him for knocking me out and leaving me on a bench after I'd spilled my heart out to him, or for trying to kill both me and Naruto more than once, but that was not the case.

Everything he had done—every hurtful action, every mocking word, every glare and every gesture—bottled up inside of me until I finally couldn't take it anymore and snapped. I realized that I couldn't keep on loving him, that I couldn't keep on thinking that he'd come back, that he'd change, that he'd realize his mistakes and that he'd seek redemption in my arms.

I realized that I couldn't keep on hoping for a happy ending.

_Stupid fairytales with their stupid happy endings don't exist. Too bad you only realize that when life decides to fuck with you. _

"And where the hell is teme?"

Naruto's loud voice, along with the sound of the door opening, snapped me out of my thoughts, bringing me back to reality.

I turned around, expecting to see the subject of my thoughts finally gracing us with his presence, but it wasn't him. That was not to say I would have wanted to see the person who entered. Her feminine features and barely clothed physique were familiar, but the red hair was simply unmistakable.

Karin—Sasuke's teammate.

I had never met her personally, but I knew, from mission reports read while sorting through paperwork and several trustworthy sources, that she was a _bitch_. There was no other word to describe her better; she was confident, overly-arrogant, and a fan-girl. But since one can never fully trust anybody—least of all appearances—I decided not to jump to conclusions once again and push those thoughts out of my mind. If she was as much of a bitch as people said her to be, then she could show it to me personally.

Shifting her weight to her right leg, she placed her free hand on her hip. She first looked at Naruto, then at Kakashi, studying them carefully with dark-brown eyes hidden behind black-rimmed glasses, before she turned to me. She looked at me up and down once, not even bothering to be subtle.

I raised an eyebrow.

"Are you the bitch who wants to play doctor here?" she asked. A smug expression spread over her face as I struggled to contain my shock.

_Who the hell does she think she is? _

I suddenly felt the urge to grab her ridiculously bright red hair and drag her through the entire building. I was sure the cleaning team would have been grateful—her clothes, as minuscule as they were, could have done a great job at sweeping the floors. I would have made sure they would leave it spotless, too. But as sad as it was, I knew I was already dreaming; there was no way Kakashi would allow me to do that to her. Ex-teacher or not, he was still the closest person I had to a father, and even though I could easily fight him off when he tried to stop me from ripping someone's head off, I respected him too much to do that.

So, I settled for the next best thing. I couldn't kick her ass, but I could be a smart bitch to her.

Smirking, I slowly made my way towards her, only stopping when we were face-to-face. I didn't miss the way Kakashi tensed in his seat or the way Naruto leaned forwards, not wanting to miss a second of our confrontation. While Kakashi didn't always like to assist to my displays of violence, Naruto seemed to enjoy them very much, finding my temper to be quite entertaining when it was not directed to him.

"I am," I answered.

I could tell she was surprised by the way I was behaving; she was probably confused as to why I hadn't reacted differently, why I hadn't attacked her—or at least cursed her. She was looking for a fight, I realized.

_She's looking for me to rip her hair out!_

"This," she said, raising the file in her hand for me to see, "is for you."

"Thank you," I answered, plastering a sweet smile to my face, and reached out to take the offering. She didn't immediately let go of it and I understand that she had something more to tell me. I raised a questioning eyebrow, my patience running thin; I guess the desire to lunge for her throat was still there, burning in my veins.

"One more thing," she said. "Sasuke-kun is mine."

_Oh, so that's her problem!_

I laughed. I couldn't help it. Her hissed words, along with the serious expression on her face… it was, in all honesty, hilarious. Add here the fact that she actually thought of me as a threat to her supposed relationship with Sasuke, and one could easily tell why it was so hard for me to stop laughing. I was so familiar with the fan-girl judgment that I was sure what she must have been thinking. New medic, looking fine, going to spend a large amount of time with the object of her infatuation. Yes, I could easily see where the jealousy was coming from.

I felt bad for her. Not only was she stupid, but she was also in love—rather, obsessed—with a jerk. That might have been the reason why I felt it was my duty to reassure her that I wanted nothing to do with her country, in the first place, and that I wouldn't go near her Sasuke-kun if my life was on the line.

So, I plastered a smile to my face and answered, "Don't worry, I wouldn't even want him wrapped-up as a birthday present."

Of course, being the rational woman I was known to be, I knew that, had I truly wanted to help her in any way, I would have told her about my history with Sasuke, but then again, _did_ I want that? No, she was too much of a bitch for that.

I was sure my words had hit a nerve; she must have noticed I was mocking her more than reassuring her, and I was so proud of myself and my achievement, that I was still smirking.

Until I saw _him_ standing in the doorway, looking like the handsomest Greek God that had ever existed.

Sasuke had always been good-looking, which was one of the reasons why I didn't blame my superficial, thirteen-year-old self for falling for him, but this was ridiculous.

His hair was black, messy, sticking up in the same familiar hairstyle, contrasting perfectly with his equally dark eyes and flawless, pale skin. His features had changed, matured, but remained as aristocratic as ever; his body was slender, yet muscular. He was tall, much taller than me and most likely taller than Naruto, though the difference couldn't be large.

He looked handsome, in a drop-dead gorgeous sense.

And all I could think of was…

…how in the world could a person look as hot as him as still be a jerk?

Wasn't there some kind of helpful rule that prohibited that?


	3. Two

**Sasuke's Point of View**

There were days when I wondered what I was thinking when I accepted this position. Being Kage was not an easy task, and nor was it exciting. More often than not, I found myself wondering why that dobe had always wanted to become one. Everything revolved around a boring protocol; there were papers, scrolls, mission reports, meetings, and between those, relatively little action. The only times when I could be myself, could be what I was born to be, was during training—and I rarely had time even for that. Weeks went by in rows before I had time even to realize how long it had been since I last trained—in the real sense of the word, not by practicing series of kata every morning and scaring the wildlife by throwing kunais at harmless trees.

Making my way through the building that had become like a second home to me in such a short time, I realized I was in desperate need for a challenge. I needed someone to defy me. I needed someone to annoy me. I was sick and tired of people listening to everything I said, sick and tired of being looked up to by an entire village, sick and tired of having to maintain a façade, of having to shape myself into a role model. I wasn't perfect. I had my own issues. And it seemed like everything I had been doing for the past year was look out for others.

That didn't bother me as much as it might seem, though. The sole reason for which I had accepted this offer was redemption. I'd thought it would help to do something good in return, and I wasn't about to complain or give up halfway. I wanted to help these people—that was my new goal. And I always achieved my goals.

There were days, though, when I felt like I understood why some countries declared war on others out of the blue. The reason was simple: boredom.

That particular afternoon, for example, the elders had decided that another meeting—the third one that week—was in order; apparently, we still had a couple of aspects about our alliance with Konoha to discuss. I had scoffed and unceremoniously rolled my eyes at that, reminding them that the shinobi Tsunade had sent were to arrive at any given moment, and that there was absolutely nothing more that we could possibly discuss by ourselves, without them, but it turned out that no word that came out of my mouth could make them change their minds. One thing I learned over the past year: Sound's Elders could well be a bunch of stubborn imbeciles.

With nothing to do about it, I attended their ridiculous meeting, where they talked about the very same aspects that had been brought into discussion the previous time. By the time they were finished, I only wanted to escape—to train until I was unable to stand up on my own. But I knew that was impossible; I'd already been informed of the fact that the Konoha shinobi—whoever they were—had already arrived, and of course, I had to attend to them.

As I was walking down the hallway that led to my office, I overheard Karin speaking with somebody. I frowned, unable to tell what in the world she was still doing there, since I had sent her on her way with a file nearly ten minutes before, but all those thoughts were pushed to the back of my mind when I heard the other person's voice. I stopped dead in my tracks. It sounded awfully familiar, but I couldn't tell where I'd heard it before—I'd met a lot of people in my life and never truly paid much attention to any of them, so I couldn't put my finger on it.

Then I heard her laugh—and everything suddenly clicked into place.

At first, I was even more confused than before. What could she, of all the people, be doing there? The surprise was short lived, though. Of course Tsunade would send my old team; they knew me, we had worked together before—leaving aside the fact that our teamwork wasn't exactly the definition of perfect—so her reasons for doing so were obvious. I inwardly slapped myself for not realizing it sooner.

"_This is for you." _

Once again, confusion flooded my system. I was certain that Karin was still talking to my ex-teammate, but the files I had handed her were for the medic that had come to work here.

"_Thank you."_

Then, realization dawned on me. Was Sakura not a medic?

I'd heard about that, of course. Who hadn't? After all, she was almost as famous as Tsunade herself. I was still training under Orochimaru when the rumors began to reach me, one by one. At first, I had trouble realizing that the kunoichi they were all talking about was Sakura, even though I basically had all the proof I could possibly need. Perhaps that was because I had never considered her skills to be special. Save for her chakra control, she had always been an average kunoichi in my eyes, someone who had slim chances of making it very far. But then again, I suppose I was too focused on my revenge to truly pay attention to anything—or anybody—else back then.

"_Sasuke-kun is mine."_

I rolled my eyes. I still had trouble telling whether she was a simple fan-girl or downright stupid. At that point, I would have gone for the latter.

She had been doing everything in her power to get in my pants ever since I asked her to join my team, using every opportunity she had to tell me how much better of a team the two of us—and _only_ the two of us—would form. No matter what I said, no matter what I did, no matter how many times I literally pushed her away, she simply didn't want to understand that I wanted nothing to do with her and that the only reason why I kept her by my side was because I needed her abilities. Even now, after so much time, she still continued to warn off every woman that came within a mile's radius of me, because, apparently, I was hers.

It was useful, alright. But that didn't make her any less stupid.

Although I would never admit, I stopped and listened for the next seconds, waiting for her reply. When it came, it surprised me. Since I couldn't know how much she'd changed or what she felt for me now, after everything that'd happened, I had expected anything—anything but that.

She laughed. It was such a simple action, yet filled with such a deep meaning. There were three options: a) she realized how incredibly stupid Karin was; b) she was over me; and c) both.

c) sounded good enough. Of course she had noticed that Karin was stupid and of course she was over me. She wasn't thirteen anymore, and considering our history, there was no wonder why she said, _"Don't worry, I wouldn't even want him wrapped-up as a birthday present."_ Looking back, I could hardly understand how I could even wonder if she was over me—what did I imagine? That she'd wait for me forever?

Don't get me wrong, I didn't _care_ that she was over me. I actually considered it to be for the best. After all, we were both about to spend a large amount of time with each other, and I sure as hell wouldn't have wanted her to go all _Sasuke-kuuun_ on me while I was trying to do my job. Without a doubt, that would have been too… annoying.

Regardless… Sakura had always been the most dedicated person to me, the one who never wanted to give up, and I realized in that moment that I never once imagined a future where she would behave any differently than she used to when she was young.

Taking that into account, I wondered about our collaboration. How would it be like to work with her now?

She was still smirking when I entered the room, her features twisted in an expression of pure satisfaction. One didn't have to be a genius to realize that it was due to Karin's reaction. Unconsciously, I stopped for a moment to take in her appearance, not even bothering to acknowledge Naruto or Kakashi, or to make my presence known. So many aspects about her had changed, yet so many remained the same.

Her eyes, for one, were the same vibrant green; they were twinkling like two precious gems, giving away everything she was feeling. Her hair had changed, though, being a much paler pink, and a lot longer than I remembered. It reached her mid-back now, and was styled in layers, the strands curling slightly at their ends; bangs covered her forehead, causing her green eyes and pale skin to stand out even more. She had grown taller, developed curves in all the right places…

She looked, for the lack of better words, pretty damn good.

"Teme!" a loud shout snapped me out of my thoughts, and I instinctively turned my head in the direction of the sound, right in time to be tackled to the ground by an orange blob. An orange blob that I knew too well—_the stupid dobe._


	4. Three

**Sakura's Point of View**

I knew I had been staring at him for much longer than I should have, but I didn't care, because he was doing the same. I briefly wondered why that was, but as I remembered the file that I now held in my hands, I dismissed the question. Since Tsunade had conveniently left that particular piece of information out of the report I had read without permission, he was, without a doubt, surprised that I was the medic with whom he would have to collaborate.

It was a mere moment later that Naruto decided it was time to make his presence known, and tackled him to the ground, breaking whatever it was that had been between us in the process.

Any other time, I would have wanted to hit him; now, I silently thanked him—and God.

"Dobe, let me go!" Sasuke hissed, attempting to push him away.

The old nickname, along with their wrestling match, brought back memories that were difficult to handle. I fought back the sudden wave of nostalgia that washed over me, but more came in its wake. For a moment, it was as if we were back in our genin days. Sasuke and Naruto fighting, Kakashi wanting to seem uninterested, but keeping a close eye on them, and me watching them. For a moment, it was as if Sasuke had never left, like he had remained with us the whole time, stayed by our side through thick and thin, like he hadn't made any of the mistakes he'd made. For a moment, it was as if we were back in Konoha, back home, living a normal, happy life, with its ups and downs but none of its complications.

I actually had to shake my head in order to push those traitorous thoughts away. I couldn't allow 'what ifs' to haunt me. I needed to remain strong, especially in a situation such as the one I now found myself in. After all, none of those happy memories mattered anymore; although they were forever embedded in my mind, their significance had, in time, turned to ashes. And there were times when I believed that was for the best. We had all grown up, we had all faced situations we'd never had wanted to face. We'd done things we hadn't wanted to do, we'd seen things we hadn't wanted to see—we'd understood the true meaning of a shinobi life. We were no longer a bunch of innocent genins who thought they could change the world when they grew up. We weren't Team Seven anymore.

So I closed my eyes for a brief moment and drew in a deep breath, willing everything to leave me. In a second, it did. Over the years, I'd repeated the process so many times that I didn't even have to make an effort anymore.

Sighing, I leaned sideways against the desk and crossed my arms over my chest, watching the scene in front of me unfold. Naruto and Sasuke were still wrestling on the floor, cursing at each other—I could hear Naruto telling him how much of a bastard he was and how much he wanted to beat him right then and there, while Sasuke replied with his grunts and insults. Kakashi was leaning against the wall, his precious orange book in his hand, looking as though he couldn't care less if they started a fight right under his nose, but I knew better than to actually believe that. In reality, he was watching them closely—like he had always done.

And then there was Karin, who was staring at them with horror-filled eyes, her mouth nearly hanging open in shock. It was painfully obvious she had no idea that we had been teammates, and I briefly wonder whether I should fill her in. I eventually settled for the negative option; although the idea of inciting her to leap for my throat so that I could have a reason to pull every last bit of her ridiculously red hair out, I was tired and there were guards surrounding the office. So I decided not to test my luck—not tonight, that was.

"I'm gonna kick your ass, teme! You'll see!" Naruto proclaimed loudly, snapping me out of my thoughts.

Both of them had stood up and were now facing each other, with a fairly large distance separating them. Naruto was grinning, his hands balled into fists, determination and excitement shining in his blue eyes. Sasuke, on the other hand, was staring at him blankly, his expression reading among the lines of, _"you're a moron"—_which, I was sure, was exactly what he was thinking at that moment.

Seconds passed, and he turned his gaze to Kakashi, nodding in a sign of familiar acknowledgement. Then his gaze flickered to me.

And I nodded.


	5. Four

**Sasuke's Point of View**

My entire life had been a twisted tale of lies and deceptions. Saying that I'd had my own fair share of surprises would be an understatement. But this… this very nearly topped it all.

I couldn't _believe_ how annoying she was—she hadn't changed the _slightest_ bit. Looking at her was like casting glances into the past. One look at her eyes and I was back in my genin days, when I had nothing to worry about and no responsibility was forcefully placed upon my shoulders.

Sakura had always stood out from the rest, both in appearance—which was impossible not to, what with her hair color—and in behavior. If I remembered correctly, and there is a fifty percent chance that I did, her intelligence was quite out of the ordinary, as well. She used to be weak, though, and short-tempered; stubborn and always putting everybody's well-being above her own. But I suppose a person who only has good characteristics had never actually existed.

In her case, however, this was getting ridiculous. She was quiet and rational, much more than she used to be, I'd give her that, but when she opened her mouth… I wanted to _strangle_ her. Her voice was smooth, it was soft, it was feminine, it was everything one would want it to be, but her tongue was sharp and her remarks sarcastic—and she was so incredibly annoying! Perhaps she was doing it on purpose, pushing her stubbornness to the limits and demonstrating that she was most likely still mad at me—not that I was claiming she didn't have reasons to remain mad at me for the rest of her life.

She hadn't paid attention to one word from what I'd spoken; in itself, that fact didn't bother me—or rather, shouldn't bother me. But it did, because she was supposed to know that she would spend a large amount of time working in my hospital. How was she so sure that nothing of what I was telling them was important and relevant to her future work? Was she so confident in her abilities? It was a definite possibility, seeing as Tsunade had promised me the best medic she had, but still.

Regardless, I figured that if she refused to absorb all the information I was willingly giving her now, she would have to figure it out by herself later on.

Naruto was the one talking now, having waited patiently—or not—for his turn, and while his rambling would be considered unimportant by any normal person, Sakura seemed to find it extremely interesting. Her demeanor had barely changed, that was a given—she didn't look as though she was paying him much attention, either, seeing as she had been playing with the ends of her hair from the moment she sat down in her seat, but she had made a couple of comments here and there and even laughed at some parts—which, admittedly, I wasn't able to fully understand.

I, on the other hand, had never been interested in what the dobe had to say—much less now, when he seemed to be rambling about missions and events that had happened in my absence. So, that aspect of our relationship hadn't changed.

What did change—and I was even ready to admit—was my interest in what our pink-haired teammate was doing. Better said, what changed was the fact that I now actually held an interest for what she was doing. In the past, apart from the situations when she managed to land herself in danger and the protective part of me bristled—the reason for which, I believe even today, was because I was too used to her to allow her to get hurt—I hardly paid any attention to her.

Soon enough, after the stories Naruto was saying were deemed unimportant by Kakashi himself, I was snapped out of my thoughts and found myself talking once again. I was not fond of this particular aspect of my job, but in time, I had learned to stop fighting it—it needed to be done. Besides, even the pervert himself had set his book aside for the time being, so I supposed I would have been obligated to answer, either way.

I didn't exactly get to that, though, because before I could even open my mouth, she decided to interrupt me.

"Sasuke, do you have a hairpin?"

… A hairpin? A fucking _hairpin_? She hadn't spoken a word to me in years, and the first thing she asked me was whether I had a _hairpin_?

"Am I supposed to have a hairpin, Sakura?" I replied, not even bothering to conceal the accompanying annoyance out of my voice. Her name rolling off my tongue felt unfamiliar, but the urge to slam her head into the nearest lamppost? No such luck.

"I don't know. Geez." She rolled her eyes and shifted in her seat, but other than that, there was no reaction from her part. She hadn't even raised her gaze from the lock of hair she was playing with. "You don't have to snap at me. It was just a question."

I ignored her. After all, what else did she expect? A medal for realizing that she was stepping on my nerves? When, during the following five seconds, she was silent, I concluded that she had nothing more to say—which I deemed a progress, since the thirteen-year-old in my memories used to chatter non-stop, much like the dobe himself. I was, of course, wrong.

"I just thought your boyfriend—err, _girlfriend_ would have left one behind and that you'd want to help me overcome this crisis and borrow it to me. I would have given it back, no doubt about that."

I blinked. Had she just said what I thought she had?

"Do you at least have a mirror in here?"

Was she playing _innocent_ with me?

"In the bathroom," I gritted out through clenched teeth, making an almost visible effort to refrain myself from lunging for her throat. She had been a pest for many, many years, but I had seriously never felt the need to kill her before—until now. And I realized in that moment that she was not as annoying as ever. She was much, much more than that. I could even go as far as labeling her the most annoying being that had ever been born on the planet.

"Are you completely sure you haven't seen a hairpin anywhere around here?"

Not only that, but she was a _bitch_. She was a woman who had learned to use every last drop of intelligence and stubbornness that she had in her body to _bitch out_ at people.

"Or you simply refuse to help me? Because if that's the case, no offence taken. It's happened before."

And hell, how did Tsunade come to the conclusion that the two of us would ever manage to work together?

I suddenly had a sneaking suspicion that she had been drunk when she thought this grand scheme out.


	6. Five

**Sakura's Point of View**

Contrary to popular belief, I truly was having a problem. My hair had curled, my bangs were constantly falling in my eyes, and I needed a hairpin—really badly.

Of course, I had known, from the moment the wonderful idea popped into my head, that Sasuke wouldn't have one—and perhaps more importantly, that he'd get extremely annoyed if I asked him about it. He had always hated it when people addressed him banal questions; they were, after all, a waste of his precious time. And if he thought I used to be annoying when I was younger… well, he certainly hadn't seen anything of what I was capable of yet.

My younger self would have done anything to get in his good graces; she would have done anything to stop, even for a second, stepping on his toes. Now, my older self… my older self was filled with a sense of satisfaction every single time she saw his brow twitch. And so, I decided to continue playing my game. After all, life had taught me that, although they were quite rare, there were instances when my thoughts, my opinions, and my well-being were what mattered most. Of course, those times were even rarer due to my selfless nature, but as most people had already realized, Sasuke was one of the _luckiest_ persons on Earth—even in my books.

"I found a hairpin!" I proclaimed proudly from inside the bathroom, sticking my nose out of the supply closet as soon as I glimpsed, from the corner of my eye, a shiny object near a stack of towels. I should have cared about whom it belonged to, but seeing as I was in a desperate situation, I paid no mind to that matter.

Ten seconds later, and my bangs, along with the rest of my hair, were pinned securely in a messy bun.

"It was on the floor," I lied as I exited the bathroom, even though I knew practically no one actually cared. However, what I did know was that a certain individual was bound to become thoroughly annoyed with the charade I insisted on playing, so naturally, I wanted to sustain it for as long as possible. "I can't imagine how it got there." Something clicked in my mind then, and I decided to take it even further. "I guess your girlfriend dropped it when you were—you know, doing _business_ with her. In any case, you'll have it back, I promise."

One moment was all it took for my sentence to sink in his system, and I caught a glimpse of shock in his inky eyes right before it disappeared beneath his façade.

_Yes, that's right, Uchiha. I'm not as innocent as you think—not anymore. _

"Teme, do you—do nasty business with your girlfriend in your office?" Naruto interfered, and what followed could be described by one word only—chaos. Just like old times.

"Dobe—"

"You don't think? I mean—"

"Yeah, you're right. I don't think teme has enough self-control to help himself."

"True. And how else could that hairpin have—"

"It's a _hairpin_. A fucking _hairpin_."

At that moment, I doubted Kakashi had ever been prouder of the three of us. He was practically beaming with pride under his mask.

"Exactly! I don't think you use hairpins, Sasuke."

"And do you necessarily have to assume that—"

"Oh, _please_. That's like, the only—"

"Does that happen to you, or what?"

"No, because I don't—"

I would have loved to continue, because I had a lot of haughty replies to deliver, all lined up quite nicely in my mind, but the door slung open, taking away my chance. The redhead from earlier stood in the doorway for a moment, and then practically _skipped_ to Sasuke's side, leaning over to whisper in his ear.

To my surprise—which, I knew perfectly well, shouldn't have been there at all—he seemed to be quite interested in whatever it was that she had to tell him. It was hard not to notice that all of his attention was focused on her words—on her.

The entire scene looked intimate, there was no denying that, but in the end, I knew better than to believe that something actually existed between the two of them. Of course, one could never be sure, but Karin played the part of a fan-girl better than I ever had—and that was much to say, considering the way I used to swoon over him in the beginning—and I highly doubted she was the type of girl Sasuke would go for.

But perhaps that was only my impression. After all, it wasn't as if I could say I knew him. And it wasn't as if he necessarily had to like her personality in order to get physical with her.

After a long minute, I saw him nod. When the redhead straightened her posture, she sported such a large grin that it could rival that of my blond teammate's. I mentally snorted. How cute, she seemed proud of herself for talking to him. I could bet my entire mission allowance that what she'd told him wasn't even confidential and that she'd only acted as such to make me jealous. Which was funny, really.

As soon as her eyes met mine and a sly smile stretched her lips, I knew my assumption had been correct.

That bitch was marking her fucking territory.

But then again, who cared? Certainly not me. She was barking up the wrong tree, because as far as I was concerned, she could have him—all of him. She could have his annoyingly silent and frustratingly brooding self; she could have his cold stares, his death-glares, she could have his exasperated sighs and his words, all infused with annoyance that he didn't see fit to hide. She could have the protector in him as well as the arrogant boy that left defenseless girls on cold benches in the middle of the night. She could have it all.

Because I, for one, didn't give a damn—not anymore.


	7. Six

**Sakura's Point of View**

"Sakura."

His voice brought me back from my thoughts, returning awareness to my senses as I looked up.

He didn't address me right away, choosing instead to bark a couple of orders to a guard that had entered the room without my noticing; I had no interest whatsoever in what he could be telling him, but my ears were trained enough to pick up bits and pieces, words among the lines of, _"take them to my place"_. Shortly after, I realized that he was referring to Naruto and Kakashi, since the former's prompt reaction was to ask him whether he had any ramen in his house.

A furrow between my brows, I wondered why he had left me out of the equation—but I'd be damned before I deliberately demanded information from him. For a moment, the brilliant idea of being a stubborn bitch and whining about how much I wanted to go along with my teammates—with a few hints about how he did not retain that title anymore scattered here and there—sounded much too good to me, but I dismissed it after giving it a second thought. Despite the relationship—or lack thereof—between Sasuke and I, I had been assigned a mission and there was nothing I could do to change that now. There had never been, for that matter. So, as much as I disliked even the thought of it, I was there, in Otokagure, as a medic, as a shinobi of Konoha; Tsunade had chosen me for this because she had faith in me and my abilities. I couldn't let her down. I couldn't let my country down. I couldn't let my feelings for the Uchiha interfere with what I had come to do there. I couldn't allow the past to ruin the present—not again.

So, I had to stay, hear him out, discuss it with him, and God forbid that happened, listen to his indications. After all, I was in his village and that meant that, one way or another, I was under his control. Had I been back home, I would have already sent him to hell, but the problem was, I wasn't. This was an entirely new world for me, with new people, new places, new obligations, and new rules.

That was not to say I was about to make our collaboration any easier, of course.

"Come with me," he spoke, gesturing towards the door.

I raised an eyebrow at his forwardness. Did he truly expect me to listen to him without question? No, sir, that was not about to happen. He might be in control there, but I was a human being, not a dog, and I needed more than a command to move even an inch. I needed explanations, and if I didn't _need_ them, then I most definitely _wanted_ them.

"Where?" I asked.

"At the hospital." His answered was followed by a quiet, exasperated sigh.

Crossing my arms over my chest, I pushed his limits with my defiance. "Why?"

Slowly but surely, he was becoming irritated. I could feel it as much as loved it.

"Because I have some matters to discuss with you."

"We can discuss them tomorrow," I offered, not because I thought that to be the best, but because I wanted to do anything but what he suggested.

Predictably, his jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed in a way that would have been deemed dangerous by my thirteen-year-old self. My twenty-year-old self, though, the one that was thankfully in control, gave him no sign of having acknowledged that.

"No, we cannot discuss them tomorrow. We have to do it now. _Move_!" he hissed, and in a movement too quick for my eyes to follow, he grabbed my upper arm and pulled me out of my seat.

A small sound of displeasure escaped my lips, followed by a string of silent curses, and I directed the harshest glare I could manage to him. It didn't faze him. I knew that stubbornly sitting back down would be useless as much as it would be amusing, because that would only make him pull me back up, so I resigned myself to following him.

However, as soon as a lock of pink hair fell in my eyes, I knew I needed a mirror, so I ducked into the bathroom without another word. My action hadn't been deliberate—not in the sense of annoying him. I had only wanted to see my reflection in a mirror, ensure that I looked presentable, and of course, pull my hair up again. The side effects it could have had never once occurred to me.

But all of a sudden, he was there. He grabbed my neck. Using one of his hands, he squeezed the base of my neck in that way I had always hated, in that way he _knew_ I had always hated. Even if I had wanted, I wouldn't have been able to hold in my screech.

"Hey!" I complained as he forcefully dragged me out of the bathroom, his hand never once lessening the pressure it had on my neck. "Let me go! Is this the way you treat your people? We were supposed to be honorary guests! _Honorary_!" I emphasized.

I was screaming at the top of my lungs, but he didn't even flinch. I'd hoped he would at least care about how this whole scene would affect his reputation, but as it was, he seemed even more indifferent towards that. Even though he was who he was now.

And by that, I meant a jerk, of course.

"LET ME GO!"


	8. Seven

**Sasuke's Point of View**

I could hardly believe what was happening to me. I could hardly believe what I was seeing. I could hardly believe what she had turned into. But who could possibly blame me, when such a transformation should be impossible—or, better yet, illegal? Words failed me. Everything she did, everything she said—every single scoff or roll of her eyes—made me want to lock her up in a basement and never again let her see the light of the day.

And to think I had barely spent two hours with her…

"So," her voice brought me back from my thoughts, and I immediately prepared myself for another fit of yells and screams and curses that could put the worst sailor to shame. Been there, done that—minutes before, actually. Apparently, she had very much disliked what I had done to her, how I had treated her, so in a matter of about five minutes, she had spat the _nicest_ words at me.

Of course, I had known she hated what I had been about to do to her, and would never in a lifetime regret that I had chosen to go through with it.

"What am I supposed to do here?"

Much to my surprise, the subject she approached was one that couldn't—or rather, shouldn't—cause a fight between the two of us, one that was more professional than anything that had been discussed that day. It was then that I realized that, despite the fact that her behavior seemed to indicate the complete opposite, Sakura knew exactly why she was there, with me. She hadn't come there to fight with me, and she hadn't come there to achieve a long-awaited revenge. She hadn't even come there to prove to me how much she had changed or how much stronger she had become. No, she had come there on a mission, and she was determined to complete it successfully. Very well. That was the whole purpose of the alliance, was it not? And to be perfectly honest, it was good to know that I was working with a kunoichi that was actually aware of what her duty was, and not with an annoying woman that had serious issues with her hair.

But, believe it or not, I didn't know how to answer her question. As the leader of the country, I knew I was supposed to become involved in everything that necessitated my help, from governmental issues to hospital matters, but I was hardly a professional in the medical field; the hospital was a mess, had been a mess for a long time, subject to Kabuto's sick experiments and Orochimaru's deep uncaring for his people's well-being. And for that reason, what it needed was exactly that: a professional. If Tsunade claimed so, then Sakura was that professional.

"I don't know, Sakura," I replied. I didn't bother to hide the fact that I was completely clueless. There was no point in lying and making it seem as though I had everything under control when it was so obvious that I didn't. "Tsunade sent you here for a reason, didn't she?"

She rolled her eyes. "Yes, of course. But she didn't tell me what to do. And it's not like I need to be told, but I could use your help for this. You've been here for far longer that I've been, and there's no way you can't know something—_anything_—that could help me. I need details. I need to know what's going on and I need to know the truth. I can't afford giving guesses because I can't afford being wrong—not when I'm dealing with people's lives. I need to be organized."

It was incredible, how the annoying woman from earlier had turned into such a professional, so responsible and so dedicated to her job.

"I don't need you to be breathing down my neck every second of the day, and I certainly don't need you to order me around. But I do need you to speak to me, to tell me exactly what's wrong and exactly how you want me to fix it. Communication—sounds familiar?"

Of course, I thought dryly, she had to say something to ruin everything, or else she wouldn't be herself anymore.

"No, Sakura, it doesn't." I shook my head. "From now on, the hospital is your responsibility. I have other things to handle, and that's exactly why you've been sent here. Do whatever you want, however you want, and whenever you want; find out whatever you need and by any means you want. Ask for whatever you want and use it however you want. I don't care what you do or how you do it, but I want his hospital changed—completely, and for the better."

That was the only collaboration she could expect from me, and not necessarily because she was who she was and I feared I would strangle her. It was because I had nothing more to give her.

I had believed she had understood that, but her glare told me differently.

"What?" I demanded, raising an eyebrow. "You don't think you can handle that?"

"Of course I can," she replied, crossing her arms over her chest. "I simply happened to have something different in mind when it came to working together. But since that hasn't changed, no problem. I can adapt quite easily."

There was a glint in her eyes that told me what she actually meant to say was, _"If you don't want to help me, then fuck you. I can do it by myself,"_ and in that moment, I was grateful she didn't voice her exact thoughts. That day had already been long enough, and the sun had barely even risen over the horizon.

Heaving an inward sigh, I turned around and resumed walking, signalizing for her to follow me.

"Do they even know how to properly control their chakra?" I heard her inquire from behind me.

"Find out," was my only reply.

I knew I had successfully managed to annoy the wits out of her when she remained silent; despite the time that separated us and the changes I was slowly discovering in her, there were instances when I could still read her like an open book.

Upon reaching my destination, I opened the door and stepped inside the room without another word; I knew she would follow me regardless of whether I told her or not. She took a moment to study her surroundings and realization soon dawned in her eyes.

"Aww, Sasuke, you're giving me my own office!" she exclaimed, clasping her hands together in mock delight. "And you let me borrow a hairpin, too. That's like, really cool." She nodded. "Great hospitality. Will you give me an entire house for myself, too?"

I scoffed. "Obviously not."

"An apartment?"

By the glint in her eyes, I knew exactly what type of apartment she was dreaming about.

"No."

"A room?" By now, she looked slightly panicked, and I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Was she under the impression that I would let her sleep in her office? I would gladly do that, but unfortunately, seeing as she was a guest in our country and an important personality in her own right, the elders would not have that.

"Yes."

"I'm going to live in a _room_?" she almost shrieked, frowning and glaring at the same time.

"No, _stupid_," I snapped, rolling my eyes. "You're going to live with me, in my house. And because I feel generous today, I'll give you a room all to yourself." After all, coming across her spread out on my couch every morning would most definitely not be pleasant.

"You're kidding, right? You actually expect me to accept that?" she asked, sounding genuinely shocked. "I will not sleep under the same roof as you—not even for a day, much less for _months_!"

She seemed so scandalized that it made me wonder if she truly believed she was alone in perceiving a problem with the living arrangements. Because she wasn't; I didn't want her in my house, either. Hell, I didn't even want her in close proximity. The elders, however, did want her there—and for security reasons, no less. By having her living under my roof, I would be able to keep an eye on her, in case Konoha's intentions weren't what they seemed to be. It was the logical course of action, but I had argued and glared and hissed. I would have much rather assigned an entire ANBU division to supervise her, but of course, that would have been too obvious, and the purpose of the whole scheme would have been defeated. In the end, I gave in. Nothing new there, you had no way of winning against them.

"Is that really such a problem?"

"The fact that I'd much rather sleep on a doormat should tell you a lot," she snapped back.

"Hn," I grunted, and then raised an eyebrow at the look she sent me. "What? Am I supposed to provide you with a doormat, too?"

She rolled her eyes, but tried a different approach. "Sasuke, come on," she said. "We don't get along. We're both aware of that. We're two mature people that can understand when something's not meant to work, and honestly, your house deserves to still be standing when I leave Sound. I—"

"Sakura," I interrupted her. "I don't have another choice to give you. Either you accept my offer, or you find a doormat to sleep on. It's really quite simple—I can't see what's gotten you so troubled."

"I don't _want_ to live with you!" she spat, her calm, reasonable demeanor falling apart before my eyes.

Why, again, was I willing to accept the situation and she was not? She had always been able to adapt far more quickly to changing environments than I had ever dreamed.

I would have never thought a person could change as much as she had. Sure, I had expected her to be different. After all, like everyone else, she was bound to grow up, to mature, to gain experience, knowledge, and strength. Her personality was also bound to suffer alterations. The way she interacted with the people around her was bound to change, and I certainly wouldn't be wrong if I stated that I was a very prominent part in the group of persons that didn't deserve her affection and respect. I was the one who left her on a bench, in the middle of the night, with nothing more than a whispered _"thank you"_ after she had confessed her feelings for me. I was the one who had attempted to kill both her and her best friend on more than one occasion. I was the one who had failed to return home even knowing that everybody was expecting me there. I was the one who changed the course of her destiny—and perhaps not entirely for the better.

I was perfectly aware of the massive role I had played in her life, so of course, I had expected her to refuse to talk to me, to regard me with cold, green eyes, to glare and hiss and swear and cut me open with all the accusations she could throw at me—all the accusations I knew were not unfounded.

But she did none of that. She didn't hiss, she didn't glare; her eyes weren't cold when they looked at me, and although she did swear and made promises of inflicted suffering, she never once plain-out accused me of anything.

I didn't need her to do that to know that she was holding a grudge against me, though, because her demeanor, as different as it was from what I'd expected, showed that perfectly. And believe it or not, I actually considered her to be smart because of it. You think she wasn't aware of the fact that she was stepping on my toes? She was. More importantly, she was doing it on purpose. She wasn't stupid, and I wasn't, either. The reason why she was being a bitch around me was because she wanted, not because she couldn't, for some reason or another, control it.

My only question was, how was I supposed to deal with her behavior for such a long period of time and with her living under my roof? At the rate our relationship was progressing, it was a matter of days before she was dead by my own hands.


	9. Eight

**Sakura's Point of View**

I never considered Sasuke to be a spoiled brat, regardless of the fact that he came from a wealthy family. He had manners, there was no denying that, and his strict upbringing was emphasized even more when he stood next to Naruto. But aside from that, he had always seemed completely normal in terms of material necessities. Hell, _we_ used to complain more about sleeping on the ground, under the night sky, or in run-down hotels than _he_ ever did! True, the disdain was, most of the times, obvious in his expression, but he never commented and never complained.

Given that, I believe I was entitled to have the opinion I had of him. Until now. Because, mother of hell, his house was _huge_!

Some would find it normal, seeing as he was who he was, but I didn't—I couldn't. Tsunade didn't live in a monster building, she lived in a modest apartment, and her village wasn't filled to the brim with problems. This—everything I was seeing—wasn't the result of his position or his high-salary. It was the result of his pretentious, pompous ass.

A sarcastic remark on the tip of my tongue, I followed him inside. I had to make a conscious effort not to allow my mouth to drop open, because not only was it the largest house I had ever seen—and been welcomed into—but also the most beautiful. I managed, though, for I knew that was the reaction he was secretly awaiting, and at that point, I would have rather died than given him that satisfaction. Besides, I had a vague feeling Naruto would do enough praising for both of us. But as it was, I couldn't blame him. The house _was_ gorgeous.

It was humongous, entirely too large for one person only, but it was incredibly tastefully decorated. I had expected it to be cold and dark and downright _gloomy_, but it was so far from that it was laughable. The colors were warm, not obnoxiously bright or strong, but they did emanate a feeling of comfort that, I had to admit, I hadn't quite seen coming. It wasn't a home, that was clear to me. As beautiful as the decorations were, as well as they fitted in the scenery and complemented each other, there was no soul in them. In a way, there were completely Sasuke-like—aristocratic, with good taste, _beautiful_ even… but devoid on the inside of any emotion.

We passed through the living room first, with its high windows that overlooked a gorgeous garden, complete with a swimming pool.

The house was set on a tall hill overlooking the entire village. I was dying to see it better, to study the pool, the surroundings, but my pride was much more important.

The windows, which I suspected served the purpose of sliding doors, as well, were covered by white, flowy curtains with golden accents that I would have never in a million years seen coming from the Uchiha. The walls were a deep chocolate that extended throughout the hallways and the attached kitchen, which was connected to the large space through a long bar. The floors were all black hardwood.

There were two couches, beige in color, with red and brown accent pillows. One sat with the back to the hallway we were passing, the other on its side. An armchair was across from it, and what separated the three of them was a low, glass coffee table. On the opposite wall, where the windows ended, was a television set—expensive, modern equipment I doubted Sasuke ever used.

As we advanced, the row of windows followed us, showing me a sitting area in the garden—which I found entirely too appealing for someone in my situation. As in, someone about to make herself comfortable in her enemy's home.

The furniture in the kitchen was made out of cherry wood, with steel equipment. Further on, there was a dining area with a glass table and chairs made out of the same wood. The windows continued on the other wall, as well, casting light onto the area—where, naturally, Naruto could be found, slurping eagerly from a ramen bowl.

Kakashi was nowhere to be seen, but that was also quite predictable.

"Oi, Sasuke-teme, you had no ramen in the house!" he accused, with his mouth full, glaring in our direction with noodles sticking past his lips.

I rolled my eyes.

Sasuke, too, ignored him, but after a mild grumble, the blond returned to his food, apparently deeming it more important.

"Come with me," he addressed me.

I heaved a sigh as I turned on my heels to follow him back to the living room. There was a slight moment of hesitation from my part before climbing upstairs, but he seemed to sense that, because he turned, grabbed my upper arm in a vise-like grip and forcefully pulled me in front of him—even as I whined quite loudly in protest. He released me before I could give him a personal demonstration of chakra-infused strength.

The mansion was, as surprising as it may sound, only two stories high, so as soon as I hit the landing, he took the lead once again. The hallway led in two directions, left and right, terminating on both ends with a large window. There was one door on the left side, on the wall opposite from the staircase, yet he turned right. He led me down the hallway until he reached the furthest door on the same wall; he opened it, allowed me to step inside, and backed away. There were two more doors on the other wall, but I could care less about that. I stopped dead in my tracks. Quietly, he retreated without another word, but I didn't need him to tell me what I already knew. This would be my room, and it was _beautiful_.

It had to be the size of my living room, kitchen, and hallway put together. There was a bed on the right side, complete with purple bedding and two nightstands with simple, matching lamps. The wall behind it was an olive green, while the rest of the room was a light beige. On the same wall as the bed there was an open door leading to a private bathroom. On the wall opposite form the door, there were windows, a lounge chair, and the larger version of the two lamps. In front of the bed, there was a large sliding door, open now, leading to an empty walk-in closet. A mirror was pinned on the wall, right next to the window, opposite from another lounge chair and a coffee table.

It was gorgeous. But I was not about to thank him, no sir!

What I _was_ about to do was take a long, hot shower.

* * *

Half an hour later, I felt thoroughly invigorated.

I pulled on a pair of dark-blue jeans, a sleeveless, loose brown top, and a pair of flats. I caught my hair in a pony-tail, secured every last rebellious strand with bobby pins, and I felt ready to take on the world. Only not really, because I was quite hungry. I hadn't eaten since the night before, and fighting with Sasuke since the wee hours of morning had taken more of my energy than I thought it would.

Exiting my room, I felt a small pang of curiosity as to who was assigned to each room and how far away from Sasuke's mine actually was, but it was soon redirected when I looked to my right and noticed something I had missed earlier. Right before the wall met the window, a couple of feet from my door, there was another set of stairs leading downwards.

With a frown on my face, I followed them; I was only half surprised to come across yet another room. It seemed to be a smaller living room, decorated in tones of whites and beiges, with the same sitting arrangements as the one downstairs, and a smaller, flat-screen TV. It didn't look any more lived-in than the rest of the house did, and I wondered how much time Sasuke actually spent around there. But I was quick to squash that thought.

Rounding the length of the couch, I passed by the windows; the view was to the garden, and I could see the village in the distance.

Heading for the door I had set my sights on, I nearly jumped out of my skin when it was yanked open right in front of me. My mouth opened automatically to scream at whoever it was that had scared me, but I closed it right back when my eyes registered the person now standing in front of me.

My features immediately aligned themselves in an expression of indifference; there was _no way_ he would see he had affected me in any way.

On his part, he raised an eyebrow upon seeing me, as if demanding explanations, and as much as I wanted to punch his pretty face, I contained myself for the sake of obtaining information.

Pointing towards the door he still had a grip on, I asked, "Does that lead downstairs?"

"No." He rolled his eyes. "It leads to a hallway. And then to the stairs—because those are the only ones that can take you downstairs. Unless you want to jump out the window."

"Wow," I gaped, placing my hand over my heart. "You're so smart. I feel insignificant." Then I scoffed. "Let's make a deal, alright? This," I said, gesturing around me, "is close to my room, anyway. How about it remains my area?"

Crossing his arms over his chest, he looked the picture of arrogance and condescension. "And how would you define _your area_?"

"As a place your _ass_ isn't allowed to step in," I retorted. "In turn, I won't use… your side of the house. Except for the kitchen and the front door." After a second thought, I added, "And the pool."

It took him about five seconds to make a decision. "Fine," he grunted, before moving past me.

My part of the house claimed, I continued on my way downstairs to see what there was to eat.

* * *

_**A/N:** Visit my blog to see what I had in mind when I described the rooms—and the village, 'cause I forgot to put those up the first time, haha!  
You can also visit my Flickr account for Sakura's outfit. _

_The next chapter should be out fairly quickly. _

_Please review! _


	10. Nine

**Sakura's Point of View**

Standing before his fridge ten minutes later, my mouth was open and my eyes were wide.

"_What_ do you _eat_?" I sputtered, shocked.

Sasuke had casually strolled into the kitchen to retrieve a stack of papers he had apparently left on the counter while I was bickering with Naruto—who still had his nose buried in a bowl of ramen. He seemed to be on the go, but I interrupted him before he could leave the room.

In return, he threw me a blank look. "Food, Sakura."

"Don't play smart with me, Sasuke," I snapped, slamming the fridge door closed. "There's _nothing_ in there! Don't you cook?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Do I seem like the type of person who has time to cook?"

A second was all it took for his statement to sink into my mind. My eyes narrowing, I barely restrained myself from lunging for his throat.

From his seat at the table, Naruto straightened in alarm, noticing the telltale signs of my anger.

"You say that like it's below you, bastard," I seethed, my blood positively boiling in my veins.

Now, my temper was short and explosive and everything you want it to be. I was quick to lose it because I was emotional, and as much as people said that was bad for a shinobi, I had accepted it a long time ago. But no one—and I mean _no one_—got on my nerves as much as the Uchiha did.

Sasuke took a step closer and had the guts to look contemplative before he gave me an answer. "Perhaps it is."

For a moment, I saw red.

"S—Sakura-chan!"

But then Naruto's panicked voice reached my ears, and I was suddenly reminded of where I was and who I was facing. Sasuke was challenging me, and the hell if I was going to deny him, but I wasn't going to do it with my best frien there, and I most definitely wasn't going to do it in his kitchen. Because, according to our previous deal, that was my space, as well, and I happened to be quite fond of cooking.

Taking in a deep breath, I tried my hardest to calm down. "Well, it isn't below _me_," I answered levelly, taking a step back to put distance between us and to lower the crackling of electricity that seemed to travel back and forth between our bodies like an out of control Chidori. "So I'm going to do you a favor and buy some food. But I'd be _damned_ if I share what I cook with you."

* * *

I spent the rest of the afternoon grocery shopping. I should have been tired from the long journey, and I was, but I didn't want to spend a second more than was necessary in that house, especially when I had left the Uchiha there. Not to mention that I couldn't go to sleep on an empty stomach.

I had been serious when I demanded explanations from him—his fridge was completely empty, looking as though it was hardly ever used. It made me wonder, yet again, how much time he actually spent in that huge mansion he had bought for himself… But as I still didn't have an answer, I let the subject go and reminded myself that I didn't have a reason to care, in any case.

After having successfully restocked his kitchen, I set about making myself a light dinner. I pulled out cereals, fresh fruits, and whipped cream, and threw them together in a large glass. I had taken a seat at the table and started to dig in when Kakashi entered the room, with a look in his eyes that clearly told me he had not come there to keep his mouth shut.

My shoulders sagging, I sighed. "Let me guess," I said, as he pulled out a seat for himself. "I need to be nicer."

"Now, now," he answered, and I could tell that, behind his mask, he was smiling. "Who am I to tell you that?"

"Then you want to know why I'm behaving the way I am."

"Perhaps," he said. "But I think I might have already found the reason for that."

I sighed. "I never expected to see him again, Kakashi-sensei, much less under such circumstances," I said, leaning back in my seat. "When I realized he wasn't coming back, everything I might have still been feeling for him went down the drain. It pisses me off that he hasn't come back. It pisses me off that he's forgotten us. And it damn well pisses me off that, now that he decides he wants our help, we're giving it to him. It pisses me off that I'm here to help him. And I know—I _know_—I'm actually helping these people, and not him. But I'm playing his stupid game, sensei, and it's _killing_ me. I have to make his medical system work when all I want is to smash his face in!"

I recognized the look on his face when I finished my rant, and although, under normal circumstances, I would have been angry, I could relate to him now. And for the first time in quite a long time, I agreed with him.

This was surely going to be interesting.


	11. Ten

**Sasuke's Point of View**

I arrived home later that evening, only to find the dobe, Sakura, and Kakashi spread all over my living room, laughing their heads off at something that had been said.

Truth to be told, I wanted nothing more than to slip away unobserved, not having the necessary energy to deal with Naruto, but of course, he immediately spotted me and stopped me before I could even reach the base of the stairs, practically forcing me to sit down and tell stories with them. Well, at least a part of me wanted to believe that, wanted to believe that it was because of his persistence that I stayed, because the other one was pretty sure that the only reason I had sat down on that couch was because I wanted to find out more about the enigma Sakura had become.

I would never admit it straight-out, but I was curious by nature, and for a person that I had once been able to read like a book to become so cold and detached, so emotionally guarded… It was interesting. And since being Otokage kept me tied to my office, subjected to doing tedious paper-work and holding boring conferences, I could at least find some adrenaline in other things, like studying people. It would certainly do no harm, now would it?

"Man, remember that mission when Sakura-chan had to like, dance for this guy?" the dobe asked at some point, piquing my interest.

Sakura groaned from where she was lying on the opposite couch, her feet resting comfortably on Kakashi's lap. "Naruto, shut the fuck up!"

"No, seriously!" he exclaimed. "Sakura-chan, that's like—"

"I know it's your favorite mission, Naruto," she said, rolling her eyes. "You don't have to tell me again."

"Aww, Sakura-chan!" he whined. "But you were so damn hot! Sasuke-teme deserves to hear this one!"

"Stop it!" she ordered, though she seemed more amused than anything else. The mention of my name in his sentence was completely ignored. "That's like, incest!"

"I know!" he laughed.

"Naruto's right, though," Kakashi chimed in, his face hidden, as always, behind his little book. "You were hot."

Sakura rolled her eyes. "I was—and I continue to be—hot, Kakashi. That's no news to me," she told him, her lips curled into a smug smirk. "But I don't need someone like my father and my brother to tell me that, thank you very much."

I simply stared at them throughout the entire exchange, not quite knowing what to make out of their behaviors. It was obvious they were closer now than they had been six years ago, and although I knew it was stupid, I couldn't help but feel left out… and admittedly, a little jealous. But that feeling only lasted until the dobe noticed me starting confusedly at the three of them, and promptly launched into a long explanation of what had really happened on that mission. In its place came, quite obviously, annoyance and mild irritation.

"Oh, bastard!" he exclaimed. "You don't know about this! Man, you should have been there. We were on a mission—like, the three of us—and we didn't know what to do to get info out of this guy without killing him, 'cause he was like, not guilty of anything, and we were thinking, and then _BAM!_ Sakura-chan was like: 'I'll handle this', and she totally did, but in what a way, teme!"

While he talked, I heard Sakura sigh, and out of the corner of my eye, I noticed her blowing a strand of pink hair out of her face as she lazily slipped lower onto the couch.

"She put on this little thing—I think it was a dress or something—"

"It _was_ a dress, Uzumaki!" she snapped, interrupting him, but the dobe went on as though she had said nothing.

"—and super high-heels, and when I saw her I was like: 'there's no way she can walk in those', but she did. So she went to the bar and began to look at this guy in _that_ way, and he immediately caught on, but Sakura-chan took it like, super further, and began to dance. So she did like, a pool dance just for him, and I really wanted to beat him up for the way he was looking at her, but I didn't, 'cause I knew she wouldn't let him touch her, so I stood behind and watched and then I felt like a pervert for ogling my own sister like that, but damn, was she hot!"

Sakura rolled her eyes fondly from her spot on the couch, her expression coated in amusement.

"And you should have seen the way she passed the ANBU exams!" the idiot continued. "It was like she wasn't even trying!"

"She also felt quite superior towards you afterwards," Kakashi reminded him in a teasing voice.

Sakura laughed. "I did. Actually, I still do. Heck, I _am_ superior to you!" she exclaimed gleefully, basking in Naruto's obvious discomfort.

It was in that particular moment, after having spent a couple of seconds in stunned silence, that my eyes zeroed in on the tattoo that adorned the skin of her right upper arm. The two intertwined swirls were proudly on display—either because she was confident in her skills and comfortable in her teammate's presence or because she couldn't care less about the rules that prohibited that and wanted the whole world to know of her success. Frankly, I wasn't interested in which one it was.

But I _was_ intrigued. Becoming a good medic-nin because of her excellent chakra-control was one thing. Making ANBU because of years and years of what could have only been hard work was another, completely different story.

I went to sleep that night thinking about how much this girl had changed. She was the last thing on my mind before I fell into unconsciousness.

She was also the first thing I thought about when I woke up in the morning.

With no noises coming from anywhere in the house, I was able to safely conclude that I was the first to awaken—though that was to be expected, given the fact that the effects of their long journey should still be felt.

Not that eager to start another day but with nothing to do about that, I took a shower and threw some clothes on, before making my way downstairs. Instead of heading for the kitchen, I made a beeline for the terrace. The cool morning air had always soothed me like nothing else, and it would be a lie to say I didn't like the view I had over the surroundings. Otokagure was a beautiful country—better said, it had all it needed to become one.

Used to my peaceful solitude, I almost failed to notice her presence until my ears picked up the sound of a body breaking the surface of the water. My brows furrowing, I approached the pool, and got there just in time to see her climbing out, dressed in the tiniest black bikini I had ever seen, water dripping down the smooth planes and curves of her body and long pink hair smoothed back, away from her face.

And _fuck me_. The bitch had a tattoo.

It was a cherry blossom branch that wound up the left side of her body; starting in the curve of her hip, partially hidden by those bikini bottoms that barely covered anything in the first place, it wove around her waist to reach her side, climbing up to her ribs, then following a path to her back, stopping right below her shoulder blade. The soft pink—the very same shade as her hair—and stark black contrasted perfectly with her creamy skin, making it almost glow under the bright summer sun that peaked through the clouds covering the sky that morning.

And if _that_ wasn't hot, I didn't know what was.

"I used your pool," she stated as soon as she caught sight of me, green eyes piercing through me as she squeezed the excess water out of her hair. Completely nonchalant, she looked as though she could hardly care less that she was standing in front of me nearly naked.

I had to swallow before I even attempted to use my voice. "I noticed."

"Good," she said. Throwing her hair over her shoulder, she gracefully moved to where she had left her towel and wrapped it around her petite body. I could have _thanked_ her. "I'm going to get dressed and then we're going to the hospital?"

"Yes." If she noticed the absence of my usual grunts, she didn't mention it. "And there's a meeting… at five. With the elders."

"Alright," she agreed, before finally—blissfully—moving past me.

"Dress more formally," I told her.

Rolling her eyes, she looked at me over her shoulder. "That's something you should warn Naruto about, Sasuke. Not me."

* * *

_**A/N:** Penguin lover: (Bahh! I forgot to answer last time!) I read all reviews and they are all important! I love 'em all!  
P.S. I love penguins, too, hahaha! _

_On that note, thank you all for your support!_

_I have pictures of Sakura's tattoo on my blog. And of course, as usual, check Flickr for outfits. _

_Please review! _


	12. Eleven

**Sasuke's Point of View**

I should have expected her to take an enormous amount of time to run a brush through her hair and throw an outfit together. I should have, really. I felt ridiculous for _not_ having expected it.

That was the day when my belief that I would never be able to understand women was reinforced, because when she finally came down the stairs, she looked casual enough to me in her dark-red blouse that she tucked into a lighter skirt—that could have been either pink or orange or _sequined_ for all I cared—and her tall heels.

I didn't spend much time admiring her, though. I rolled my eyes, bit my tongue to keep from starting an argument, grabbed her upper arm and teleported us right in front of the hospital.

I hadn't counted for Naruto's hand reaching out to grab hers and thus ending up there with us, but surprisingly enough, I didn't care much about that, either.

"_HEY_! Sasuke-teme, you wanted to leave without me, didn't you? You did! _Bastard_!"

Annoyance that she didn't bother to hide settled on her features when she realized exactly what I had done. In response, she directed a glare towards me and forcefully removed her arm from my grip. Then, in a very mature move, she flipped her hair over her shoulder and brushed past me, the automatic doors sliding open to let her through.

Rolling my eyes, I took a moment to tame my own annoyance before I stalked up the stairs in her footsteps. Naruto followed in mine, but his loud complaints—or whatever they were—fell on deaf ears as I struggled to catch up with her. She seemed very sure of herself and where she was heading, and I nearly growled. In three strides, I had already reached her side and grabbed her arm again, forcing her to follow me as I stalked to the elevator. I could feel her resistance as I dragged her inside—and I could hardly contain my smirk.

There was no doubt in my mind that she was dying to curse me to the very depths of hell, but she was probably aware of all the pairs of eyes that were on us. The last time we had visited the hospital, it had been early in the morning. The shifts were changing, the medics were tired, I was a common sight and no one really knew who she was and what she was there for. But rumors spread quickly in a town where everyone was on edge, knowing that something was about to change and waiting for it to happen.

There was a voice in the back of my head that told me it wasn't for nothing that she had been at the top of the class in the academy, because having my people see me wrestling with what was supposed to be my new best medic was not a particularly good idea. But if being diplomatic and watching out for appearances meant being _civil_ with this woman, then I would much rather let people knew she was a bitch before they had the chance to find out by themselves.

The hospital's conference room was on the second floor, at the end of a long hallway, and we reached it with more complaints from Naruto's part and resistance from Sakura's. It was entertaining, alright, if not a tad bit annoying.

The hospital was well-equipped, up to date with basically everything. It was built entirely from scratch, and was now a sprawling building that towered over the surroundings; I had made sure I put everything in the hands of a person that knew perfectly well what they were doing, what a hospital should have and how it should look like both on the inside and on the outside. The staff was what I was having problems with, but something told me that Sakura would manage the task she had been given perfectly well.

It was very soon that I found out what exactly that something was.

She seemed to know all too well who was waiting for her on the other side and what was about to happen as I opened the door and practically _swung_ her inside by the arm. The dobe stumbled inside behind her, his incessant rambling coming to a sudden halt and his blue eyes widening as he took in the sheer size of the room—and the people that were actually there.

Sakura obviously cared less about being in the spotlight, and violently yanked her arm away, sending me yet another glare.

I had asked for a meeting with the medics—or what I called 'medics' but what I had a sneaking suspicion were mere medical students by real standards—knowing that she would meet the rest of the employees in time. As far as I knew, Kabuto had been the only real doctor Otokagure had ever known; these were people that had pursued medicine because of passion or role models or perhaps because they had the chakra control that was needed. But no one had taught them—not professionally and not officially, at least.

Needless to say, their level of expertise was hardly as high as it should be in a hidden village where shinobi sustained injuries much graver than they could heal.

I opened my mouth to speak, to formally introduce Sakura to the audience, but as soon as I did, she pushed me to the side and stepped in front of me, donning a cape of confidence and self-assurance that I simply hadn't seen coming—not from her.

"To be perfectly honest, I hate this introductory bullshit," she said, and my eyebrows shot up in surprise. "By now, you must have all found out everything there is to know about me. So, I'd rather get this show on the road than lose time. My name is Sakura—but then again, you already know that." She smiled so condescendingly that I had to wonder if it was really my ex-teammate I was seeing. "What I want from you today is to do whatever it is that you do every day; act normal. Don't worry about me, imagine I'm not here. Then I want you all to report back to me in here, tonight. You'll answer whatever questions I might have and then listen to what I have to say. We'll get started right away on the organization—or whatever it is that I deem more important. Understood?"

There were different reactions from the people in the room. Some were shocked, some seemed strangely amused. Others were downright confused to the point it was etched in every inch of their expression. Those who weren't any of those seemed angry—and ready to call her out on patronizing them.

One woman in particular looked as though she was all of the mentioned above. I knew who she was. She had asked me questions before—which basically translated into the fact that she used every single pretext to capture my attention. I tended to swerve and walk the other way when I had the chance, though.

"Otokage-sama…" she addressed me, warily watching Sakura from the corner of her eye. "We will have to listen to _her_?"

I opened my mouth to speak once again, but no words left my mouth, because she was suddenly in front of me, taking control and dominating every spirit in the room—including mine.

"Whatever insecurity you might have, you ask me," she said, with a firmness in her voice that stunned me. "I'm not sure you've been paying attention, since you seemed a bit busy eyeing him from the moment we entered the room, but the point is I am the authority here. I understand that he is your Kage, but the only person working directly under his orders here is me. The rest of you work for me now—you respond to me. And if there's anybody here who doesn't like that, then you're free to leave."

I could only stand back—stand back and watch her as she spoke. The words registered in my mind and at the same time they didn't.

She was completely in her element, and it was as though I was hypnotized. I had always known Sakura was meant to be a doctor. It fitted her. She was a healer by nature. But now I realized that it went far deeper than that. She wasn't meant to be a medic because of her kind soul or lack of skill on the battlefield or her good chakra control. This went down to her very core. She _loved_ what she did. She _knew_ what she did. She had confidence in her skills. _This_ is where she belonged.

"Excuse me, why are you acting like such a bitch?" the woman whose name I couldn't remember for the life of me asked.

Sakura smirked. "Superiority tends to do that to you, sweetie. But I wouldn't have you understand the concept. So, here's the question I've been dreading to ask ever since I entered this room: does anybody here have the smallest medical knowledge? I'm sure you all know medical ninjutsu—meaning, chakra manipulation—but I doubt that isn't at least the slightest bit messed up thanks to my _dearest_ colleague, Kabuto—who I sincerely and with all my heart hope is dead. I want to know if anybody taught you the basic work of a nurse—that is, make a shot, attach an IV, know the use of antibiotics… Are you capable of dealing with a patient in the quickest and most efficient way under critical circumstances?"

Hands were raised and she pursed her lips as she leaned her weight on one foot and seemed to reconsider her question.

"You know what, that's not even relevant, because there's a huge difference between _thinking_ you know and actually _knowing_." She waved her hand in a gesture of dismissal. "Forget it. I'll figure it out myself. You just go out there and do your best."

As people slowly began to stand from their seat and filter out of the room through the two entrances, she turned to Naruto—who seemed more shocked than amused, which was something I did not expect—and sighed. "Can you get me something to eat?"

What I did expect was his face lighting up at the mention of food—which it did. "Sure thing, Sakura-chan!"

"And you," she commanded, turning to me.

I raised an eyebrow.

"Come with me."


	13. Twelve

**Sasuke's Point of View**

I followed her into the office, where she rounded the desk, plopped down in her seat, and buried her hands into her hair.

"I don't even know where to start," she said, heaving a sigh as she attempted to regain her composure. Then she straightened and placed a hand over a towering stack of papers. "Alright. I suppose the files I asked for are somewhere in this pile."

It took every ounce of willpower in me not to ignore her and to give a nod in response.

"I'll have to keep you up to date with a lot of changes that will take place—rules, regulations… things that are inevitable. The hospital will interfere with your administrative system until it's capable of running on its own. Mostly when it comes to information. Then—"

"Isn't that the way it's _supposed_ to be?" I interrupted her, raising an eyebrow.

She rolled her eyes. "No, Sasuke," she said. "You need to see the hospital as an institution that has everything to fend for itself. It doesn't rely on you. _You_ rely on it." She stopped, and sighed once more. "Or will. Whatever. I will try to make it stand on its own two feet as soon as possible, but it doesn't depend only on me, so I can't make any promises."

"Hn." That would have been my last word, since in that moment, I wanted nothing more than to put as much distance as possible between this woman and myself, because if I remained in her office for much longer, the police would walk in on a crime scene the following morning—more specifically, on a dead body with a pink mane. I had even stood to make my intentions clear—which she skillfully ignored by directing her interest towards a file—but before I could take a step, the idiot barged back in with two bags of food in his hands. He closed the door behind him and unceremoniously dropped the take-out onto the desk, before he placed a hand over my shoulder and slammed me back into my seat.

Resisting was futile. I knew that from experience, and the truth was, I had no energy to fight him that day.

So I resumed at eating my food and ignoring both of my ex-teammates. Ignoring—I was good at that. Only that with Naruto… well, it wasn't exactly easy to tune him out.

"Sakura-chan, that was _so_ harsh!" he exclaimed through a mouthful of food. "You weren't like that back in Konoha!"

Sakura rolled her eyes. "In Konoha, I knew I was dealing with actual people with actual _brains_. Now, I'm not so sure. And I'm not taking chances."

Scowling, I cut in, "Stop being such a bitch, Sakura."

All she did in response was raise a challenging eyebrow at me. "Protective, are we?" she mocked. "But trust me, that was completely necessary. If I just stood there and smiled like an idiot, my chances of ever winning their respect would have turned to zero in an instant. But I guess I wouldn't have you understand what that means, now would I?"

From beside me, Naruto whined. "Don't be like that, Sakura-chan. These people respect Sasuke-teme!"

"There's a big difference between respect and fear, Naruto," she told him. "Don't confuse the two."

"The only person these people were afraid of was Orochimaru," I said. "And I'm not him, Sakura."

To my surprise, she nodded. "I know. These people aren't afraid of you. They're hanging onto every hope they have. But your reasons for being here are completely different from what they appear to be," she accused. "They're wrong and they're selfish. You care about nobody but yourself, Sasuke, and it won't be long until everybody realizes it. I can only hope I'll still be here to witness your downfall."

Now, I had to admit, at the beginning, the sole reason why I chose to come back to Otokagure was because it was advantageous. That was that. The thought of how much work I'd have to put in for the well-being of the village had never once occurred to me, so I suppose that was enough proof to confirm her assumption—I did think of myself. I always did that, so it was no surprise to me—apparently, it wasn't to her, either.

What she didn't know, however, what I would never tell her or anybody else, for that matter, was that, in time, I'd actually come to care about these people, about this place. It was the kind of attachment I'd sworn I'd never allow myself to feel again. Realizing it was annoying enough; admitting it was taking it to another level. But in the end, that was the truth and it couldn't be denied. Ever since I was told about my brother and the truth he had fought so hard to hide for all his life, I'd made a point of not lying to myself anymore.

And always thinking before acting, but that was another story.

But what did _she_ know? What right did _she_ have to make assumptions based on past actions that had no connection whatsoever with the situation at hand? Who did she think she was?

I was ready to lunge over the desk and strangle her.

And then it hit me. She didn't need to think anything of herself to be able to draw conclusions, however wrong they might be. She was Sakura, and she had witnessed the brunt of my selfishness firsthand—every single time, over and over again.

In the light of that realization, what right did _I_ have to question her behavior?


	14. Thirteen

**Sakura's Point of View**

Saying that I was _not _disappointed with how little the so-called hospital staff seemed to know would be nothing more than a big, fat lie. I was actually quite annoyed with the realization, despite the fact that I knew I should have expected the situation to be similar to what I had recently discovered. After all, had things been any different, why would have Sasuke—and his big ego—asked for Konoha's help?

It was obvious that there was no way this was going to be an easy mission with speeches about ethics and advanced medical skills, like I had foolishly hoped it would. Regardless, I knew there was absolutely nothing I could do about it, other than suck it up and deal with it.

So, I decided to start from the very beginning, right from where I had started so many years ago. I decided to teach. As in for, really teach, in the way Tsunade had taught me: by giving each of them tons of material to read, study, and memorize. For the time being, I would use a book I had brought along in a scroll. It was huge, compiling basically everything there was to know about medicine, and I never went anywhere without it.

Of course, I wasn't crazy enough to make them study all of it, just the basics—enough so that they wouldn't be a danger to their patients anymore. Anyone who wanted to excel in this field of expertise could very easily do that on their own, with a little bit of help from their superiors, but that was something that didn't—and wouldn't—concern me.

I had I admit, I was rather surprised upon seeing that basically everybody was up to the challenge, once I presented them with my plan of action. I almost felt bad for treating them the way I had—'almost' being the key word in that sentence, of course.

I spent most of that day inside my office, dealing with documents while trying to gather more information. Before I even realized, it was time to head home and start getting ready for the meeting with the elders Sasuke had scheduled.

As I made my way through the busy streets of Otokagure, I realized there were many more things about the hospital that needed to be fixed, like the administrative structure, the way patients were handled. Although, in the past, it had been enough to keep the country going, there was no organization whatsoever to speak of; the staff probably knew how to act in an emergency situation, thanks to the years of experience behind them, but that hardly meant they were organized.

Thinking back to the days spent in Konoha's hospital, under the watchful eye of Tsunade, I realized it shouldn't be too hard for me to put things in order. Being the Hokage _and_ the most reliable medic in the country was certainly not easy for my mentor, and there had been times when I had been instructed to take over her duties at the hospital. I had both the resolve and the skill to manage everything exactly the way she did, I had been told, and I knew that the only reason why I had not been appointed in her place was because she was waiting for me to turn in my ANBU resignation. After all, the hospital could not be left in the hands of a person who could always simply not return from a mission.

I loved my life, though; I was perfectly content with how my two 'jobs' balanced each other out, regardless of the danger—both physical and emotional—that was involved.

Upon arriving at Sasuke's mansion, I immediately noticed that both Naruto and Kakashi were already gone, and I chuckled lightly as I realized that Naruto had probably taken residence into Sasuke's office, and was, without a doubt, annoying the hell out of him in that very moment; Kakashi had most likely followed him wordlessly, knowing that those two must be kept an eye on, but hiding his intentions carefully under a mask of indifference—or rather, behind his beloved orange book.

A smile flittered across my features as I slowly climbed upstairs; there was no denying the past—everything he had done, all the pain he had put us through—but perhaps even more undeniable was Naruto's unyielding devotion. No matter what Sasuke did, no matter how many bonds he claimed to have broken, no matter how many times he disappointed him, Naruto never gave up on him. Tsunade did; our friends did; hell, even I did. But Naruto continued to hope, to fight, to forgive and forget.

And even though Sasuke would forever remain an ungrateful, undeserving bastard, I was glad that Naruto had finally gotten his best friend back.

Only God knew how much I wished _he_ was the one who had to spend months working with him.

Sasuke had told—more liked warned—us to dress more formally, so after having taken a short shower, I roamed the pile of clothes that had formed on the armchair, searching for something suitable to wear. I hadn't exactly packed the fanciest of my outfits, because I knew that, technically, I wouldn't—or rather, shouldn't—need them. Thankfully, it seemed like I'd had enough common sense to also bring along something elegant, because halfway through the pile, I came across a simple, red dress.

It had short sleeves, and my memory told me that it clung to my curves—just enough to make me look hot, but not indecent—and reached down to my mid-thigh. I matched it with a pair of black, high-heeled pumps and some cute earrings Ino had bought me for my sixteenth birthday.

My hair was a mess, as usual, so I pulled it away from my face, gathering in what could be called a stylish, yet messy, up-do. I applied moisturizer, a sheer coat of foundation, and efficiently executed a brown, smokey eye; I used to hate dolling myself up, as I considered it a waste of time, too superficial, but life—along with a very persistent Ino—had slowly, but surely, proved me wrong.

As I was dabbing some light lipstick on my full lips, I looked around the room, searching for a clock, and realized with horror that my time was running out. Quickly sliding the cap back on, I carelessly threw the lipstick on my already cluttered bed; after stealing one last glance into the mirror, just to make sure I looked presentable, I locked my hands into a couple of quick hand-signs, teleporting myself to the Otokage Tower.

I wasn't exactly known for being punctual—a trait I must have inherited from Kakashi—but unlike him, that wasn't because I didn't always do my best to be on time; my life was simply too busy for me to be able to follow a strict schedule. Regardless, I had a feeling that neither Sasuke, nor the infamous elders, would understand—or even care about my reasons.

There was no excuse for being late to such an important meeting, and I really wanted to make a good impression on behalf of Konoha.

* * *

_**A/N:** Thank you for all your support! You guys are amazing! :)_

_If you want, visit my profile to vote in my poll! Basically, I'm trying to figure out which story I should work on in my spare time (when I don't feel like writing for any of the stories I've already posted). If you do decide to swing by, please vote for both categories if you're into Shaman King; if you're not, choose either one of the two Naruto stories. Because voting for both won't really help, haha!_

_Please review!_


	15. Fourteen

**Sasuke's Point of View**

She arrived exactly one minute before the designated time, dressed in a tight red dress that showed too much and too little at the same time, and black high-heels that made even _me_ swallow. Her hair was caught in a messy up-do, with curling strands falling into her face; her green eyes were brought out by brown eye-shadow, while her light lipstick toned down the heavy look.

Ignoring her appearance, I sent her a pointed look as I held the door open for her exactly in the manner our audience would expect of me; I blinked as she made a face in response, before swiftly moving past me and entering the room without as much as a single glance back or a waver in her step. Shaking my head and rolling my eyes, I followed after her, only half looking forward to the next sixty minutes of our lives. A better way to say it was that I was only looking forward to seeing her being chewed out by the elders.

But of course, the bitch entered the room, and everybody suddenly loved her. I should have known something like that would happen. And the worst part of it all? I couldn't understand why it bothered me so much. She was just… annoying, winning the hearts of everyone around her so damn easily.

The council was formed of old men, mostly, with the occasional clan head infiltrated. They, too, were annoying, and most of the times had a different way of viewing things than myself, but they were wise and they were war-worn; they were more of a nagging entity that would pull me up should I ever fall down, and I had no intention whatsoever of doing that anytime soon. But still, they knew it was of the utmost importance not to allow themselves to be fooled by appearances, not to trust strangers so easily, especially when the welfare of their village and their people and their still so fragile future was on the line.

As usual, with Sakura, everything was different. She walked through that door, smiled, said a couple of words, and it was done. Their defenses were lowered. They were completely taken in, completely fooled, completely _delighted_ with her.

I could have been sick right then and there.

I had to admit, though, she would make a good diplomat. She was charming and tactful, nothing like the bitch she was when under my roof. Which of the two was her true self, I couldn't tell. I had a feeling she was a bitch only with me, because she thought I deserved it. The behavior that I was seeing now—the smiles, the courtesy, the respect—suited her more, somehow. It was more representative of the old Sakura—the nice Sakura that was not rude and that cared about the people around her more than she cared about herself.

The image I had unconsciously associated with her once I found out she had become a medic? This was it. A calm, charming person; a woman who knew what she was doing and what she was talking about, who had complete confidence in her skills and in her ability to make this right.

I was wrong, all right. I was _wrong_.

* * *

I asked her to stay behind after the meeting ended, having receiving a not-so-subtle suggestion that I should invest more time in the hospital and collaborate with our new medic—provide her with everything she needed in order to use her capacities to their full potential.

I had almost scoffed. _Almost_. But in the end, I agreed, because I was the Otokage. I was responsible for the entire village, including the hospital, and whether I liked it or not, it was my duty to check up on how everything was going from time to time. Although, I had to admit, what I said to her mere days before had been true: most of the responsibility had now fallen onto her shoulders. There wasn't much I could do. It wasn't my domain, wasn't my field of expertise, wasn't something I knew how to handle or was particularly interested in.

But regardless of that, I had to admit I was quite impressed with the way she had handled the situation—and the way she planned on continuing. I had assumed it would be chaotic when someone did as much as try to put some order into it all, but it seemed like I had been wrong. The hospital was more organized than it had ever been, and that was only after a day of work.

I wasn't about to show her my surprise, though. Instead, I decided that, just like _she_ could push _my_ buttons, I could push hers, too.

"Do you think you need help?"

It actually amused me when anger instantly flared up in her eyes, burning and spreading like wildfire throughout her entire posture. It was the first time in two whole days that I could say I could read her like I used to read the old Sakura. And it was then that I made a goal out of goading her as often as possible.

"What is that supposed to mean?" she seethed from her seat across my desk.

I resisted the urge to smirk. "If you think you need someone to help you with the hospital," I clarified.

She remained silent.

I blinked innocently. "Did you not understand the question?"

"I can handle the hospital on my own, thank you very much," she snapped, abruptly sitting straighter in her seat. "I don't need any of your stupid puppies to help me."

My lips curled at the corners. Whereas seconds before I could see her anger, now I could _hear_ it and I could _feel_ it and it seemed like nothing had ever given me more satisfaction. "Now, why are you being so aggressive, Sakura?"

She clenched her jaw. "Because seeing your face every goddamn day pisses me off," she spat. "Really badly."

I raised my eyebrows. "Is that true? Well, I think you'd better get used to it. After all, we're going to be _teammates_ for a long period of time now."

My speech seemed to have finally hit the mark and touch a sensitive spot as she stood up in one fluid motion. "You're very wrong, Sasuke," she hissed. Her voice was calm, but I could tell she was bothered by my words. "You and I have _never_ been teammates—and will never be, for that matter. As for that long period of time—I assure you, I will be gone before Christmas."

With that, she turned around and was ready to stalk her way out of my office, but I stopped her before she could even reach the middle of the room, standing up myself.

"I don't think so," I goaded. "You may have started off right, Sakura, but I doubt you're capable of doing everything so quickly. I really do."

"Fuck you, Sasuke!" Pink strands of hair whipped around her face as she abruptly turned around, green eyes dark with anger as she crossed the distance back to my desk and slammed her hands down on it. The wood creaked, and I raised a brow. "You know _nothing_ about me. And you know what? That's alright. Because I don't need any random traitor to know me."

My temper flared as soon as the words were out in the open, and just as she turned to walk away once more, I stepped around my desk and grabbed her upper arm, forcefully whipping her back around. "Take that back," I hissed, glaring daggers at her.

"Now why," she started through gritted teeth, yanking her arm away; her green eyes bored angrily into mine, "Would I do that?"

"Because I'm telling you to," I replied just as forcefully.

"I _mean_ it," she stressed.

I grasped her neck into my hand and yanked her back as she prepared to turn away from me a third time. "I don't _care_."

Her eyes narrowed. Her hands came to rest on my wrist, and I was surprised by how much force she could put into her dainty fingers. "_Of course_ you don't."

My grip tightened. "It was an order," I hissed, almost certain that would win me the argument.

She didn't pull away and tried to hit me, though, as I'd expected. Instead, she got closer, so close that I could feel her breath fanning against my face, her chest brushing against mine, so close that I could see every fleck of darker green in his eyes.

"And you can stick it up your ass if you want to," she told me, contempt dripping from her every word. "Because I will _never_ listen to your orders, Otokage-sama."

I only realized my grip had slackened completely by the time she was already out of the room and the door slammed behind her.


	16. Fifteen

**Sakura's Point of View**

The following day, I woke up earlier than usual. Whether that was because I'd had more than enough sleep or because my mind was still reeling with everything that had happened the day before, I didn't know. All I knew was that the first person on my mind when I regained consciousness was Sasuke—which immediately brought back waves of memories concerning that particular scene that had taken place in his office a mere couple of hours before.

I honestly didn't know what was wrong with me.

What had come over me at that point… it had been instinctual, whatever it had been. I was stubborn and opinionated and independent. I couldn't stand it when someone offered their help because they thought I couldn't handle the given task on my own. I couldn't stand it when someone offered their help when it came to medicine—when it came to what I knew best.

_Especially persons like that arrogant piece of Uchiha shit._

Naturally, my temper flared. But usually, I reacted differently. I was a kunoichi. I knew how to drive men crazy, with subtle looks and small actions like the ones I had initiated with him the day before. But I never did that with anybody; under normal circumstances, I would have punched whoever dared to patronize me into oblivion.

But just like everything else, this seemed to be different with Sasuke.

* * *

Dressing comfortably in my ninja gear, I decided to train for a while. Working out had always helped remove any unwanted thoughts. I didn't exaggerate, though, knowing that I would need my chakra at the hospital. I only did a few light stretches, ran for a while, and went through a set of advanced kata.

Then I walked back upstairs to shower and change. After a relaxing couple of minutes spent under the hot spray of water, I walked into my closet to choose a light pink, silk dress, which I paired with a pair of high-heels; I completed the outfit with a nice pair of golden earrings, pulled my hair back in a pony-tail and applied a small amount of make-up. Throwing everything I would need in a matching, brown bag, I skipped breakfast and exited the house.

I had taken to wearing heels sometime after moving in alone, which meant that I had been around eighteen at the time. When the shifts at the hospital dragged on and the missions became more and more gruesome, Ino had slowly but surely began to introduce me to the art universally known as 'shopping', claiming that it was relaxing and that wearing nice clothes—especially nice lingerie—would make me feel good about myself. Along with self-confidence, came confidence in what I did. She rounded her speech with a reminder that as long as I felt good in my own skin, my patients would be able to feel that, and they would become more assured, more comfortable.

I had been basking in that thought ever since.

Besides, I was still rather short, and the way Naruto, and every other friend of mine, for that matter, now towered over me—the girls with their occasional heels included—was one more reason for me to _want_ to feel more confident.

And God knew I needed that confidence right now.

On my way to the hospital, I stopped to order a coffee from a small, cozy-looking café I had spotted the other day. It was a small, bright yellow building, with floor-to-ceiling windows and colorful flowers at the entrance, and it arrested my attention from the moment I caught sight of it. On the inside, the atmosphere was peaceful, homey; there were small, wooden tables and comfortable seats. I could see myself working in such an environment, because peace, I realized, was another thing I so desperately needed.

Walking past the automatic doors of the hospital, I nodded to the people I passed on my way to my newly-claimed office.

"Mrs. Nakamura," I greeted as soon as I entered, having sensed her presence from the moment I stepped out of the elevator.

The elder woman looked up upon hearing my greeting, surprise showing clearly in her eyes.

I took a moment to place my bag and my unfinished coffee on my desk, before I extended a hand towards her, "I'm Sakura."

She returned the gesture, albeit still rather hesitant. I wasn't surprised. I had expected such a reaction when I contacted her, had expected reticence ever since I was presented with my mission. Although I'd been sent to Otokagure to help, I could understand why most of the people felt apprehensive about my presence—about the presence of a former enemy on their territory, in their administrative structure, in their most trusted—or rather, what _should_ be the most trusted—institution. But I was not willing to allow that to bother me.

"Yes, I… I've heard of you," she confessed, and I took a moment to study her as I leaned back against my desk.

She was a middle-aged woman, younger than Tsunade, but older than me. She had light blonde hair and bright blue eyes that reminded me more of Ino than of Naruto. Her loose mane seemed to curl naturally in soft waves that made her appear younger than she was, while her pale, unblemished skin and seemingly effortless style indicated the care she put in her appearance. Had I not read her file beforehand, that would have led me to the inevitable conclusion that she was a civilian.

"I know that this situation must be confusing to you," I started. "Namely, the reason why I asked you to meet me here."

She nodded. "It is."

"Have a seat," I offered, gesturing to one of the chairs in front of my desk.

Warily, she complied.

"I have heard that you have been somewhat 'in charge' of the hospital for quite a long time."

She hesitated before giving me an answer. "I'm not sure that 'in charge' is the right term, but I guess that yes, I have been helping out… however I could. I'm no medical ninja."

"I know." I nodded. "You have been… _more_ than a receptionist."

She nodded.

"Alright," I said, clasping my hands together. "I will go straight to the point. The way it is now—it's not right. I don't want any of you to think that I came here to patronize you or your country for its apparent lack of development, because your Kage has done a good job and changed a great deal for the better. But the hospital is hectic. I know that you—the staff—are used to the way everything is now, that you have a routine, a way of communicating, a way of doing things that perhaps isn't completely wrong. It can't be wrong if you're saving lives.

But I want to do a good job, too. I want to bring this place to a whole new level." I paused, placing my hands on the desk, on either side of my body. "Perhaps you'll say that goes beyond what my mission here entails, in case you've documented, which I'm sure most of you have, by now. Perhaps it does. Perhaps I have personal reasons that don't really find their place in the grand scheme of things. But everything—absolutely everything I want to do—will be for the better. That, I can assure you."

"I never said—"

"I know," I interrupted her, nodding. "I'm the one who wanted everything to be clear from the very beginning. I'm not one for pretenses or misunderstandings."

"I see," she said.

"Now, the reason why I called you here is because I need your help. People are suspicious and reluctant to work with me, and although I could very well use force, I wouldn't want our entire collaboration to be based on my giving orders and you executing them like little soldiers. That's not how the atmosphere in a hospital should be like, because quite frankly, we're all working for a common goal here, and there's no point in having tension accumulate all over the place."

With a nod, she said, "I understand."

"I know you have been like… a mother, so to say—guidance to everybody who works here. I want to know if I can collaborate with you directly until the others learn to trust me, to rely on me, to see past this whole no-nonsense façade."

"You can collaborate with me, alright," she said. "Of course you can. I don't understand why you'd even want to ask."

"Because I want to make changes," I replied, "Massive changes. Changes that I'm not sure how welcome they'll be. I expect reticence, even more so when they're coming from me. What I need you to do is support those changes—because if everybody else sees you supporting them, they'll learn to see the good part in them. They'll learn to see the bigger picture." I rolled my eyes. "Of course, I could pretend to care less about what they think now, because of course they'll learn all of those at some point in the future. Maybe when I'm gone they'll be able to let go of their grudges and their pride and accept that I've done good. But my adopting forceful methods would hinder progress, and that's the last thing I want."

Slowly, but surely, realization dawned on her. Her entire posture seemed to relax then.

"Can I rely on you?" I asked one final time.

This time, her nod was confident. "Of course."


	17. Sixteen

**Sakura's Point of View**

I spent most of the day sorting through the files stacked on my desk. It was a grueling work, seeing as I had always found paperwork to be incredibly irritating, but it had to be done, and to be perfectly honest, I was quite motivated when it came down to it. I had a goal and I had a plan and I was working to achieve it and see it through—and that felt good. Logical thinking had become my domain over the years, and it was nice to be able to use it outside of a mission. It was nice to be able to use it in a _hospital_. Since most of my work back in Konoha consisted of having blood on my hands during my entire shift, it was good to find myself in such a familiar setting, but with far less pressure on my shoulders.

Around lunchtime, I headed down to the cafeteria to grab a sandwich, since my stomach was beginning to protest. The room was brand new, perfectly equipped and perfectly decorated, as was the rest of the hospital, and the woman behind the counter was a lovely lady in her mid-forties who was suspiciously nice to me—I suppose that, not being part of the medical staff, she didn't feel the same animosity they seemed to harbor. In a certain measure, I was grateful for that.

I finished my snack in my office and emptied my bottle of water, before grabbing a manila folder and once again heading out into the hallway.

"Keiko," I called as I approached the reception desk. "I need you to do something for me."

"Of course." A smile accompanied her answer, and to my surprise, I could tell it was sincere, unlike what I had received from her earlier in the office.

Had she thought everything through already?

"I need you to multiply these," I said, handing her the file I had been carrying, "and share them out to the interns. I have a list of them here, so that you know how many copies to make and who to give them to. On the back, there is another list of the nurses with whom I would like to have a word later in the afternoon, so if you could gather them in the conference room, I would be eternally grateful."

She nodded, her smile never faltering.

"I'm going down to the basement to see what's up with the archive room. I can't emphasize enough how important it is to have medical files in order. Which reminds me—after I'm done with sorting through them and we become a bit more organized, it would be wise to make a full ANBU check-up—" I stopped, reconsidered my words, and then sighed in resignation, "What am I talking about? A full _shinobi_ check-up!"

Keiko laughed. "It will be a lot of work," she said.

"Yes," I agreed with a nod. "But it has to be done. Later, though. Now I have other wars to battle."

* * *

The archive room was everything I had expected it to be. Cold, humid, full of dust—and relatively empty.

Only important injuries were documented, those that involved new weapons or unknown poisons—aspects that needed research. My insides turned to ice when I realized that the entire purpose of every examination wasn't to save the patient's life, but rather to gather information from their approaching death. The only people whose lives were saved with great effort were those who held information, those whose missions were classified, those who were needed for intelligence. And those—those were few.

Sound had proved, from its actions, that it was rash, quick in making decisions, choosing quantity over quality in an instant. There seemed to be an unwritten rule looming: those who were strong enough, lived; those who weren't, died. It was as simple as that. And they weren't to be missed, either, because there was always someone to take their place. Sound shinobi were not excellent in their abilities, but there were a lot of them. They had warriors to spare, so in a way, I suppose it made sense. But that didn't make it any less sickening.

Letting the papers fall on the small wooden table with a muted thud, I moved to the storage space on the other side of the room. I opened a cabinet and grabbed a yellow file at random, ready to roll my eyes at its predicable contents.

I nearly dropped it to the ground.

_Experiments._ Carefully made, detailed experiments made on people—on _innocent_ people. On men and women and children and _babies_.

They filled up an entire cabinet.

Hastily, I flipped through them, hoping that I was wrong, hoping that it was alright, that the files were simply mixed up and the rest were patient records, medical histories, or even studies on poisons. They weren't. An entire cabinet was filled to the brim with Kabuto's inhuman experiments. And when I opened another, I found that it was not only that.

I felt sick.

* * *

_**A/N: **Hello, everybody! Sorry it's been so long and sorry this chapter's so short. I know a lot of you guys have complained about that, and I get where you're coming from, but it's just the way the story's been structured, and I'd rather not change it this far in. On a happier note (I guess), I sent all of my college applications yesterday, so now that all there's left to do is hope for the best, I suppose my time on will once again be what it used to. I'll attempt to get back to my writing schedule, since I never really had a chance to truly try it out, and I have my fingers crossed that it will work—it would make my life so much easier if it did. _

_In any case, I hope you liked this chapter, however short it was! Please review if you did!_

_Another update should be in order soon! :)_


	18. Seventeen

**Sakura's Point of View**

Standing in a room in front of a group of people who didn't want me there would have scared me in the past. It would have made me blush and stutter and want to run away. Years passed and my confidence built up and now it was hardly like that. I wasn't by any means another Ino, who liked to be in the center of attention on every occasion, but when I had something to say, I wasn't afraid to say it anymore—because I knew what I was talking about.

Standing in the conference room in Sound in front of the medical staff that clearly didn't look kindly upon me made me feel none of those things. Instead, I felt angry. I felt betrayed. I felt terrified. I felt livid. And I still felt sick. And because the main target of my hatred was gone, with a mind of its own, I felt it directing to the people in front of me.

_They saw this,_ my subconscious whispered. _They saw this and they never did anything to stop it._

But it wasn't like that. There wasn't anything they could have done to stop it, I told myself, over and over. There wasn't anything anybody could have done to save them.

But I could. It was why I was there. I had the mission to ensure that nothing like this would ever happen again—and I would make sure I was successful in it.

Clearing my throat, I tried to put all my ill feelings aside and focus on the present, focus on what needed to be done—focus on the Sakura that wanted to protect more than she wanted to destroy.

"I… put some order in the archive room," I finally spoke.

Sets of eyes continued to gaze at me, unwavering.

"I found this." I picked up the folder I had brought in with me and let it fall gracelessly back on the desk. "I believe we all know what I'm talking about."

The room was silent, and it was all the answer I needed. Briefly, I wondered just how many of them had been forced to attend Kabuto's sick experiments, just how many of them had had to sit through them and watch as their fellow villagers or comrades suffered and died without them being able to do anything to save them or at least alleviate their pain. It wasn't something I ever wanted to have to go through—it wasn't something I ever wanted to imagine again.

"I will…" I paused to take in a deep breath. "Get rid of them with the fastest opportunity."

"What?" a single, brave voice rang out. My head snapped up to meet the passionate brown eyes of a young, dark-haired male. "You mean those people died for nothing?!"

The question surprised me, but the answer was simple. "They died because of malice," I said. "They died because of people without scruples or moral values. But in matter of knowledge… I wouldn't be able to say. I didn't read any of these files, and I won't."

"What?!"

"If information was to be gained," I raised my voice in order to be heard over the loud murmur that had enveloped the room, "Would you be able to use at least a fraction of it without thinking of the horrors these people have had to live through for you to know this? To know something that, most likely, could have been found out just as easily in less painful and more ethical ways? Would you be able to use the information they provided without their consent?"

"I would, rather than have to live with the fact that their sacrifice was in vain!" the same man snapped, and I narrowed my eyes at him.

"There was no _sacrifice_!" I hissed, anger washing over me yet again. "There was only _execution_! This is not medicine! This is sick, mental disability. _This_—" I held the paper up for all of them to see and ignited it with a spark of my chakra, watching it slowly burn. "—is going to turn to ashes. And the others will meet the same fate."

The room was silent for a long minute.

It took everything of me to continue, but there was no other choice—and I had all the motivation I needed. Leaning back against the desk seated at the front of the room, I took in a deep breath.

"I… trust you have all received the files I sent to you through Keiko."

There was a chorus of quiet, submissive affirmation. I stopped to wonder if my words and actions had taken me up a notch in their eyes, or if I had signed my sentence to an even more difficult life.

"I want you to study those—thoroughly. You… have experience. Lots of experience—and that will come in handy in terms of speeding up progress. It's easier to correct something rather than learn it from the scratch and be insecure when you're dealing with a matter of time—of pressure. Now, the files that I gave you, for now, are very basic. But I want you to read them, still, because there may be a thing or two you can brush up on. Most of the things you will see later on will make sense to you; some of them won't. Anything that isn't clear—you can come to me at any time. And I _mean_ it. You can call me. You can seek me out. I will always be ready to give you an answer."

Sighing, I crossed my arms over my chest and locked my legs at the ankles, leaning further against the desk.

"In any case, I insist on having these meetings twice a week so that we can clear things up as a group, but I will be available at any time. Until now, the situation has been hectic. I can only hope that a more organized environment will help you assimilate knowledge more easily. Naturally, some of you will take to this faster. If you want to do research on a certain matter, I am here. If you want more materials to work on, if you think that reading medical books will help you, if you want to specialize in a certain field—after you complete this basic "training"—and you want to start working towards that goal now… I am here for everything. I don't want you to see me as your enemy, because I'm not. I want to help. I want to change things, sure. But I want to change them for the better. Alright?"

My voice was soft, defeated as I finished. I could and would have given everything for them to trust me at that point, to have faith that I would make everything better, because the look in their eyes when I showed them that file told me the exact extent of which they had been involved in Kabuto's experiments—and that was something nobody should ever have to live with.

Their voices were equally soft when they answered.


	19. Eighteen

**Sasuke's Point of View**

"…So, Sakura-chan!"

"Yes, Naruto."

"Whacha doing?"

"I'm cooking ramen, Naruto."

"…Sakura-chan!"

"Yes, Naruto."

"I love you, Sakura-chan."

"I know, Naruto."

I gritted my teeth as I took another sip of my cup of coffee, my right eye twitching with annoyance.

I had come home to retrieve a stack of files I had carelessly left in my bedroom; because, of course, today of all the days, I found myself needing them. While I was there, I decided I could do with another fix of caffeine. Too late did I realize that my kitchen was full, but I wasn't about to back up and leave. It was, after all, my house and no one was kicking me out of it.

…Although the dobe and his stupid voice came damn close to achieving exactly that. So did Sakura, with her little pink dress and strappy high heels and her annoying attitude. There was also something about both of them together that irritated me beyond belief—something about the way they had bonded over the years, the stories they shared, the words they exchanged. They all made me feel like an intruder in my own home, and that pissed me off much more badly than I thought I had a right to be.

It had been a week since my last conversation with Sakura, and this was the second time I saw her in an informal setting such as this. That wasn't to say I wasn't keeping tabs on her, though. It was, after all, my job. I had to hand it to her—she had made all the smart moves until now, including befriending who even I knew was the pillar of the hospital: that Nakamura Keiko. For some reason or another, that was a choice I had never seen coming from Sakura, even after she had proved me, time and time again, that she was the most intelligent person on our old team. Perhaps it was because I didn't expect her to be able to make such decisions on her own, to be able to implement them with such confidence. She could have cared less if the woman accepted her or not, I knew. She would have done her job either way, and she wasn't afraid of going the hard way.

And that intrigued me—that intrigued me because, once again, it didn't match the image I had of Haruno Sakura.

"So, how's the hospital?" Naruto asked, his loud voice bringing me back to the present.

Sakura scoffed, moving with ease around the kitchen. "All over the place," she said. "I had to take everything from the very beginning. Seriously, what kind of psycho lets people who don't even know how to properly administrate a shot take care of his army? Honestly," she huffed, and I didn't need to look at her to know she was talking to me. "I mean, I understand that he was deranged, but to _that_ degree?"

Swallowing my mouthful of coffee, I stated, "Kabuto took care of everything."

"Well, that's a relief," she snapped, and I frowned at the hints of powerful anger surging from her voice.

Naruto interrupted me before I could reach any conclusions. "So, you're like… making them read and study and stuff?" he asked, oblivious to the tension in the room.

Her stance seem to relax as she resumed her activities and answered with a calm, "Yes, Naruto."

"Bleah, Sakura-chan!" he exclaimed. "Why can't you just let them practice on dead bodies?"

"Because medicine doesn't work that way, Naruto," she chided softly. "It's completely different from other subjects. Here, we can't skip unimportant details. Actually, there _is_ no such thing as 'unimportant details'. They all have a much bigger significance than people who aren't medics could ever even begin to understand—and they all connect in one way or another. Here, those details make the different between life and death." Turning around, she threw him a sharp look. "_That's_ why I'm making them study."

And maybe it was the lack of sleep, but I had never felt more fascinated about a woman than I did in that very moment. I didn't know what, but there was something about the way she'd spoken, the way she'd looked, the way she'd done her best to make Naruto understand what she was saying, while still knowing, in the back of her mind, that he could never truly get it. She truly enjoyed doing what she did—she truly enjoyed being a medic. She was one down to her very core.

"I'm actually surprised you're here," Kakashi commented from his spot on the table, nose buried in his porn book, snapping me out of my daze. I took another mouthful of warm coffee.

"I was in the hospital all night," she answered.

He hummed and turned a page. "That's never stopped you before."

Between strands of pink hair, I saw her smile. "Stop trying to make me look like a workaholic, because I'm not."

"Suuure," the dobe drawled.

From over her shoulder, she threw him a glare that had him grinning and shutting up.

"I'm still trying to figure out how they're working," she relented after a moment. "Trying to give them time to get used to all the changes."

For a moment, I was surprised to hear that she was willingly giving up information, but then I realized she was no longer acknowledging my presence in the room. Whether it was that that pushed me to speak or the fact that I knew I would have to bring it up sooner or later, I had no way of knowing, but I swallowed the last of my drink and interrupted their conversation.

"You will have to decide who will sign the necessary documents—for the alliance."

"I am," she answered, and for a moment, a very small part of me was torn between being pleased that her attention was once again focused on me and being pissed that she was about to become annoying once again.

I raised my eyebrow. "Oh, really now?"

"I was Tsunade's apprentice, Sasuke. I'm one of her most trusted people. I'm more than entitled to do that. Not only that, but I was _told_ to do it," she said, throwing me a pointed look over her shoulder.

I scowled.

"I should be the one to sign it!" the stupid dobe complained from where he had flopped beside Kakashi in a chair. "I'm the future Hokage!"

"Yeah, well, until then, you're still an idiot," Sakura commented offhandedly.

His face fell, and I nearly smirked. Then I had to cringe when he yelled loudly in complaint, _"Sakura-chan!"_

"We will have dinner tomorrow night," I added, interrupting what would have undoubtedly become a one-sided argument from Naruto's part.

Immediately, Sakura turned her narrowed, sharp eyes upon me. "Why?"

I almost rolled mine. "Because that's how it's done, Sakura."

"Is it really necessary?"

"Yes."

"But—"

I groaned. "Drop it, will you? I don't want to have dinner with you, either, but there's nothing I can do about it. Stop acting like a spoiled brat and accept the damn situation," I snapped.

I had expected a tantrum. But before she could even glare, she scoffed. "What the hell, Sasuke? Control yourself."

I could have killed her right then and there.

* * *

_**A/N:** Hiii everybody! Thank you for all your lovely reviews! They mean the world to me. _

_Also, this takes place at the end of August; Sakura has been in Otokagure for a few weeks now.  
I know it can be difficult to keep track of the timeline sometimes, especially since my story has such short chapters, so I'll try to keep you updated on that! _

_I am planning on finishing the first stage of this story until the year is out—which means Naruto and Kakashi will be out of Otokagure by the time January (our January, haha!) rolls around._

_Outfit on my Flickr account._

_Please review! :)_


	20. Nineteen

**Sakura's Point of View**

"How about these shoes?"

I was seated down on a comfortable plush chair of a beige color that matched the subtly decorated interior of the fancy store. Three boxes of shoes lay with their lids scattered around me, on the polished floor. One of my shoes had been abandoned, having constantly been replaced by what now was a black, open-toe pump.

I looked up at my best friend for confirmation to see him with his brows furrowed.

"Are you trying to get in the bastard's pants, Sakura-chan?" he asked. "Because that's sick! Like, totally incest."

Sasuke had let us know about his impromptu dinner earlier that morning, and I had managed to drag Naruto to the mall with me. I hated shopping alone, but at that point, I was starting to regret having brought him, of all the people, along. Not that I had many options in my current situation, though.

I narrowed my eyes at him. "If you weren't my best friend, you would have been flying through that window as we speak."

"Eh, Sakura-chan." He waved me off uncharacteristically, and I blinked in surprise. "I don't know why, but I have a feeling you and the bastard are going to end up together."

I rolled my eyes. "That's because you're a pervert. Sasuke and I have absolutely nothing in common."

While a comment like that would have rendered me speechless, turned me into a blushing, sputtering virgin in the past, at this point in my life, I couldn't be less affected. I was over him, in the true sense of the word. No matter what people said, what they thought, or what they tried to force me into believing, I knew that Uchiha Sasuke no longer formed a part of my heart—he no longer held any form of control over my destiny. Now, he was nothing more than an old acquaintance and a new colleague, a fellow shinobi whom I would have to respect. He was a nice memory of my first crush, the memory of a boy I used to love so much time before, of a member of my genin squad—the squad that had taught me so much.

While thinking back to those days often clouded my judgment, bringing a state of nostalgia along that was painful at times, I had learned to deal with the memories, whether they were pleasant or not. The pain that followed was now number… or perhaps it was me—perhaps I had felt so much of it that I had become numb, completely immune to its devastating effects.

But regardless of what my heart had to say on this matter, my mind always won. It had long since taken over when it came to dealing with him.

"Exactly," he insisted. "You're like, ying and yang."

"Naruto," I laughed, shaking my head. "How about you focus on taking Hinata-chan out on a date for now? Then you can start thinking about matchmaking and the like."

"S-Sakura-chan!" he sputtered, appalled, as though I'd punched him in the face.

Grinning, I decided to drop the subject. "I like these," I commented, looking back down at my shoes. "Oh, and give me those." I pointed behind him without raising my head.

"These?" he asked, frowning, as he handed me a pair of black, strappy sandals.

I looked up. "No," I answered, hesitated, and then reached for them. They did look gorgeous, after all. "Actually, give them to me. And those booties behind them, too."

Naruto sighed, but complied.

"Are you sure you can even afford this, Sakura-chan?" he asked, clearly uneasy about being trapped in a mall with a spending woman working havoc on its supplies. Been there, done that, and he had been permanently traumatized.

"Of course," I answered. "I have this fat pay-check from my last mission which I have nothing to spend on, since I have no bills to pay now that I'm living with you-know-who. But no matter; I'm putting all of these on my mission allowance." I paused for a moment, contemplating. "Which had better be generous, seeing as I'm dealing with the King of Bastards himself, the high and mighty Uchiha Sasuke. And besides," I added with a shrug, "I only brought a pair of boots with me, and it's obvious I'm spending winter here."

"Sure, because one's not enough," he supplied.

"Nope," I answered, amused. "Come on, lighten up! We still need to find my dress!"

He threw me a bland look. "Yay?"

I grinned. "You'll get to see me trying on nice dresses?" I attempted.

"I'll get to shield you from perverted teenagers?" he countered.

I rolled my eyes. "Okay, you win this time."

He simply sighed, showing no enthusiasm whatsoever for his victory.


	21. Twenty

**Sakura's Point of View**

It was later that same day that I learned what would later on be confirmed over and over again: that summers in Otokagure were stifling hot. I would have imagined they would be rather cool, seeing as the country had an opening to the ocean, but the capital was too far away to make a difference.

That particular evening, I wanted nothing more than to shower, slip into my favorite silk pajamas, and sleep with the covers flung all the way to the other side of the room. The last twenty-four hours had been long and tiring and hot and nothing quite like the free day I had imagined I would grace myself with.

I was setting away my clothes – old and new – in the closet when Naruto appeared in my doorway. Between taking over the hospital and meeting with the elders, I'd had no time to truly settle in, and since I was sure that the worst was just about to come, I tried to get that over with that night.

"Whatcha doing, Sakura-chan?" he asked, his voice as cheerful and as excited as ever. The only time I had heard Naruto sound serious was when he made me the promise of bringing Sasuke back; his tone changed when his friends were in danger, as well, but even then, passion dominated it rather than seriousness.

I smiled. I never wanted to see a day when that tone would disappear. "Settling in," I answered.

"More like settling your clothes in," he muttered under his breath.

I laughed. "Come on in, Naruto," I said, waving him over. "What did you need?"

"I just wanted to tell you good night!" he declared, almost proudly. "And to tell you to go to sleep."

"I will," I assured him with a nod, recognizing his concern. "I just need to finish this." I gestured to the mess of clothes, shoes, boxes and shopping bags around me.

For a moment, he was silent. Then, leaning against the doorframe, he crossed his arms over his chest. "You know, I think you and the teme will get along perfectly," he said.

I raised a curious eyebrow, pushing for an explanation.

He shrugged. "He's not planning on going to sleep anytime soon, either."

* * *

Later that night, after I had finished turning my room into a home away from home, I showed up in the doorway of his office. He was buried behind a stack of paperwork, looking over a couple of files, and was so engrossed in his work that he even failed to sense my presence.

Tucking a strand of rebel hair behind my ear, I leaned against the doorframe and cleared my throat. The silk of my nightgown rubbed against the skin of my thighs as I shifted.

Sasuke looked up. I saw the dark circles under his eyes and the flecks of curiosity in his onyx orbs.

"I…" I paused and sighed, trying to find my words. I had tried so hard not to think about what I was about to say that it was now difficult for me to break through my own shield. "I didn't want to say this in front of Naruto—which is probably one of the reasons why it took so long—but… I believe you have to know."

He raised an eyebrow, but placed his pen down, granting me his full attention.

I tried to keep my emotions in check, but my voice still came out as a whisper, "They made experiments, Sasuke. On people. On _children_. I know you know this. But they documented every step. Every reaction. _Everything_."

There was a brief moment when surprise flashed across his face, before it was shadowed by a myriad of unreadable feelings which soon settled in an emotionless mask.

"How do you know that?" he asked after a lengthy period of silence.

I swallowed, my pride keeping me from squirming under his intense gaze. "I found the files in the archive room in the hospital."

Sasuke let out an uncharacteristic sigh—and in that moment, he seemed a million years old. "Where are they?"

"I burned them," I answered simply, immediately.

I expected a tantrum. It never came.

Instead, he simply looked at me with an unidentifiable emotion in his dark eyes and nodded. "Good."

* * *

_**A/N:** Thank you all for your support! _

_Sakura waited for a week until she told Sasuke about what she found in the hospital._

_Sexy nightgown on my Flickr account! _

_Please review! I love hearing from you! :)_


	22. Twenty One

**Sasuke's Point of View**

The day of the dinner was, for the lack of a better word, annoying. There was paperwork to complete and projects to approve and people to hear and an entire village to lead. And throughout it all, the knowledge that I would have to be social over the course of an entire meal loomed over me like a black cloud.

I was not fond of the elders and I was not fond of my ex-teammates. Put them together and my night would be irrevocably ruined. Add _Sakura_ in the mix and there was a possibility that I might even go crazy.

By the time I was in my room, freshly showered and putting on another set of clothes, I was even more pissed than I was when I found out I would have to participate to such a ridiculous affair. Glaring down at my shirt as I buttoned it up, I made my way out of my bedroom, stopping for a moment to close the door behind me. I raised my head as my ears began to pick up a commotion at the other end of the hallway, my eyes narrowing at the familiar voices.

Just as I began to wonder how exactly I would make it through dinner surrounded by the most annoying persons to walk on the face of the planet, the door I had set my sight on opened, the dobe stumbling outside as he was pushed; a sound of complaint escaped him, something that sounded vaguely familiar—a distressed 'Sakura-chan' maybe—but I found I couldn't focus on that.

Because then _she_ stepped out, looking every bit as perfect as those plastic cover-girls I sometimes saw in magazines.

She was dressed in a silky blue dress that had precious gems decorating her mid-section and reached down to her mid-thigh. It wasn't plastered to her form, so one could say it did leave quite a lot to the imagination, but the black high-heeled shoes she wore made up for that. Either I had been blind all along, or it was nothing more than an optical effect, but in that moment, I could have _sworn_ her legs went on for miles.

Captivated, I watched as she put on a pair of long, silver earrings; her lips were moving, she was scolding Naruto for something he had done, and as she finally turned to face the stairs, a dismissive air surrounding her, my breath caught in my throat. Her eyes had always been mesmerizing, that amazing shade of green something otherworldly, but I had never seen them stand out so much. She had used black eyeliner and soft purple eye-shadow to emphasize their color, her long, thick, jet-black lashes framing them perfectly. Choppy bangs covered her forehead, while the rest of her curly hair fell over the back and shoulders.

I had no way of knowing what other people thought, but she had never looked more beautiful to me than she did in that very moment—which, I told myself, was the only logical conclusion a normal man could have reached upon laying his eyes on her figure. She was a bitch, but she was hot, and I had reached a point in this whole situation where I had no problem whatsoever with admitting it. I would, of course, admit the very same about any other woman who would manage to catch my eye.

I was snapped out of my daze the moment the loud commotion moved from the hallway to the top of the stairs and continued down, along with the sound of high-heels tapping on the wooden floor.

I was then reminded of the fact that I might as well have signed my death-sentence by agreeing to this ridiculous formality, and I scowled.

* * *

Much to my surprise, the dinner in itself was bearable.

Well, as bearable as it could be considering the fact that I had an idiot who would simply not shut up by my side and an annoying bitch across from me. The focus of the conversation was kept away from me, though, which was surprising but merciful. I could not, after all, afford to start bickering with my stupid ex-teammate in front of the most important people in Sound, so I was more or less pleased that his attempts to bother me were weak enough for me to be able to ignore.

Kakashi was more diplomatic than I ever saw him as he entertained discussions of every type with the elders, and Sakura was terribly annoying as she smiled and contributed.

That, until a low beep sounded from inside her small purse, interrupting the ongoing conversation. She immediately placed down her glass of wine and reached for the source of the noise; one glance down and she was standing up.

"Emergency," she explained. "I apologize, but I am needed at the hospital."

With that, she was gone, the only trace of her presence being the soft perfume that seemed to linger in the air.

I glanced over to my right, but the dobe continued to stuff his mouth with food without even batting an eyelash. I smoothed the furrow in my brow and picked up my fork once again.

It was only when the dinner was over that Naruto seemed to decide he cared about his teammate and made his way to the hospital to check on her rather than my house to hit the pillow.

Of course, I ended up being dragged along. My eye twitched when I recalled exactly how many times he had managed to haul me to wherever he wanted to go whenever he wanted to go, but I told myself I was too tired to complain.

Once we arrived in the waiting room, I realized exactly who the emergency was about. I had sent Daichi, one of my most loyal and promising shinobi, on a recon mission a couple of weeks prior to Team Seven's arrival; he had managed to keep in touch with me through letters and messenger hawks until one day, when I stopped hearing from him. I had sent an ANBU team after him, and either they had brought him back or he had returned—I had no way of knowing, since no one had bothered to announce me.

I mentally growled at the realization. When were they going to learn that I had to be informed of everything, no matter where I was? Not anytime soon, apparently.

His mother was there, in obvious distress, but before I could make a move in her direction and even before the dobe could open his big mouth, Sakura appeared.

She was still wearing her heels, and was so calm I was stupefied. There wasn't a spot of blood on her light blue doctor's coat, and her composure was intact. Her brow furrowed momentarily as she caught sight of us, rising when she saw me and melding into a stern expression when she saw Naruto about to scream.

To her credit, he immediately shut his mouth.

"Daichi's mother, right?" she spoke as she pulled down her mask. She had pulled her hair into a high ponytail, leaving only her rebellious bangs free.

The woman had leaped from her spot on the couch the moment she caught sight of her, and whispered a breathy, "Yes," in response.

Sakura smiled. "You can breathe now, he's alright."

"Oh, thank God!" she exclaimed, placing a hand over her heart.

"He's going to need to spend a couple of days in the hospital," she began to explain as she reached behind her back to untie her coat, "Possibly a week, it all depends on his recovery rate. But he will make a full recovery."

"Can I see him?" the woman immediately asked.

Sakura removed her coat to reveal the teal dress beneath. "You will have to wait until they transfer him to his own room, then you can even spend the night with him, if you want."

Running a tired hand over her face, she exhaled evenly. Then her eyes seemed to finally catch sight of her outfit. "I'm sorry you had to come," she apologized. "You were obviously in the middle of something…"

My ex-teammate seemed amused as she frowned. "That's what matters least," she answered. "It happens all the time and I signed up for it. Besides, a person's life is more important than having dinner." Pausing, she seemed to think again. "Which, under any other circumstances, shouldn't be. Have you had it?"

The elder woman shook her head.

"Alright, then these two—" Sakura said, pointing to me and the dobe, "Will make sure you eat something."

The brunette turned to glance at us before shaking her head. "Oh, no, I couldn't—"

Sakura waved her hand in a gesture of dismissal. "Don't worry about it. They follow me around to help."

I bristled at the insult.

Naruto, on the other hand, couldn't have taken the news better.

"Yeah, come on, Obaa-chan! They have really good food here, I was surprised…"

I was torn between hitting myself for his stupidity and hitting Sakura for her arrogance. I ended up doing neither as she shifted her weight to her other leg and raised her eyebrows.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" she asked.

I narrowed my eyes in such anger I was surprised my Sharingan hadn't automatically activated, but all I could do was glare at her back as she turned and walked away.


	23. Twenty Two

**Sakura's Point of View**

By the time the date of Naruto and Kakashi's departure came along, the weather had begun to lose its stability.

I learned early on that Oto was even more unpredictable than Konoha in September; not only could I no longer plan what to wear the following day, but I needed to have a light jacket and an umbrella at hand wherever I went.

That day, the sun was shining brightly into the sky; the few degrees that had dropped during the night had climbed back up again, and although the wind still blew, it was more of a light, warm breeze than a powerful, cold gust.

Although it could have fit in a couple of storage scrolls (admittedly, with a bit of effort), I'd refused to bring my entire wardrobe to Otokagure; after all, I didn't plan on spending much time there, and I was certain I would be able to find clothes that suited me no matter where I went.

I slightly regretted that decision now, though. My scrolls were filled to the brim with tank-tops, shorts, and lingerie (and no, that did not mean I had plans to seduce Sasuke), which meant that I would soon have to make time for a shopping trip in order to buy warmer clothes.

For today, though, I chose to wear a yellow shirt with sleeves that reached past my elbows and a thin, brown belt that tied around my middle. I completed the outfit with a pair of tight, black pants and matching, high-heeled sandals. Having had a shower beforehand, I braided my unruly hair loosely and applied a bit of make-up, before making my way downstairs, where Naruto was already waiting for me.

* * *

"Ne, Sakura-chan?" he asked, unsure, as we walked down the narrow street that led to the marketplace.

I turned my head to look at him, curious.

"You'll be alright, won't you?"

I smiled. "Of course I'll be alright, Naruto," I assured him, nudging him playfully with my hip. "Why would you ask that?"

"I don't know," he confessed, sounding genuinely concerned. "I just… Sasuke-teme is hard to deal with… especially now, when you guys hate each other."

"We'll make it through—somehow," I said as nonchalantly as I could, turning my gaze back to the road before us. "All I have to do is stand him for a few more months."

Although I had to admit that Naruto's concern was legitimate, I had faith in my words. I knew I wouldn't be seeing much of Sasuke, and as long as that statement remained true, nothing catastrophic could happen. Besides, a change of air was actually quite refreshing, and Otokagure was a much nicer place, now that Orochimaru was gone.

Even so, though, I couldn't wait to go back home, and I had long since promised myself that I would do anything in my power to make that happen as soon as possible. I had plans to spend as much time in the hospital as my chakra and stamina would allow; that way, I would achieve two major goals: set this hospital on the right track, and avoid any confrontation with Sasuke in the meantime. After all, he was Otokage, and since there were many other changes—and quite visible ones, at that—that needed to be done to this village, I knew he would be busy, as well.

With a little bit of luck—according to the calculations I had made—I would only get to see him once or twice a week, and maybe even then, we'd both be tired enough not to start an argument. Fights with him were fun, I admit, but also tiring. And as much satisfaction as annoying him could provide me with, I knew they were something I would have to give up, now that I'd officially started my mission. After all, I had come here to work, not play.

"I know, Sakura-chan," I heard my best friend sigh. "But I'm worried that, in these few months, he'll manage to hurt you again. And I won't stand that."

My eyes softened at his confession. No matter how much stronger I got or how many times life put me to the test, Naruto's protectiveness would never quell. He was my brother through and through, and nothing could ever stop him from worrying about me.

"He won't hurt me, Naruto," I assured him softly. "You want to know why? Because, first of all, he means nothing to me now; and thus, all of his words and actions mean just about the same. And second… seriously, Naruto, what's there left for him to hurt, to break? He destroyed everything that night, when he left Konoha. And maybe it's better this way."

Out of all the people out there—my parents included—Naruto was probably the only one who knew just how much I'd suffered after Sasuke's departure from Konoha. True, he left to train with Jiraiya-sama soon after, but that short period of time when he stood by my side, helping me wade my way through my depression, had been more than enough for us to bond. I had always had a brother by my side—I'd just been too blind to notice it. My eyes had always been on Sasuke… and, sometimes, I wondered if his leaving hadn't actually been for the better. After all, it had unknowingly triggered all the major events that took place in my life: my bonding with Naruto, my request to train with Tsunade, and eventually, my maturity.

It would have probably sounded crazy back then, when my heart was still bleeding, but now, I could proudly state that I was actually quite happy with the way things played out in the end. The wheel did turn, and bad did become good. And in the end, that was all that mattered.

Linking arms with him, I grinned. "Come on, let's buy those groceries," I said. "I'll make you ramen tonight!"

It was almost ridiculously amusing, the way his blue eyes lit up at the mere mention of his favorite food. "Really, Sakura-chan?" he asked, his expression the definition of excitement.

"Of course," I smiled, "I somehow have to make sure you won't forget me, right?"

"I won't forget you, Sakura-chan!" he exclaimed, grinning. "Believe it!"

"I do," I said, laughing at his enthusiasm.

A few minutes passed in relative silence, and I grabbed the opportunity to sort through my mental grocery list, trying to figure out where I could get what. The majority of the items, I could find at a supermarket, but I would have to visit a market for fresh fruits and vegetables. Given my recently discovered issue with clothing, I would also have to pay attention to the boutiques I encountered on my way, for I wanted my upcoming shopping trip to be a success.

"Um, Sakura-chan," his hesitant voice broke through my concentration.

"Yes, Naruto?" I acknowledged, but didn't look up at him, still partially lost in my thoughts.

"Will you share it with Sasuke-teme, too?"

I couldn't help it—I laughed. "I guess I _could_ make an exception tonight," I compromised playfully. "If he wants to have dinner with us, that is."

"Thank you, Sakura-chan," he said, and the sincerity in his voice surprised me.

I blinked. "Why are you thanking me?"

The answer would have been obvious, had it not been for the undersides I was sure they were there.

"For trying," he answered. "Because I know that you're doing it for me. And I know that, as soon as I'm gone, you'll stop—you'll stop trying."

"I'll never stop trying," I whispered, coming to a stop.

Naruto had grown, there was no doubt about that; he had matured enough to know that what had once been between the members of Team Seven was no more—at least not between Sasuke and I. But that didn't mean it didn't hurt him to acknowledge it.

"The difference is that I'll stop trying by myself," I stressed. "I'll stop trying—actually, I already _have_ stopped trying to make this work on my own. If Sasuke wants to take a step in the right direction, too… I won't turn him down. If he wants to be friends, I won't reject him. I could never reject him—you know what he once meant to me. What his memory _still_ means to me. He used to be a precious person. And precious persons must be cherished."


	24. Twenty Three

**Sasuke's Point of View**

"You've got to take care of her, bastard."

They were the only words that caught my attention and coaxed me to look up from the file I was reading.

Naruto had been in my office the entire morning, rambling and rambling until I thought a headache so strong was going to take over me that my head would literally _burst_.

Then he went out, bought half of the ramen from the nearest shop, and returned; he continued to speak about everything—out of which nothing at all was of any interest whatsoever to me—but since he had to take small breaks to actually _swallow_ what was in his mouth, it became easier for me to tune him out.

And tune him out I did. Until now, when he seemed to have finished his food supplies and was leaning forward on my desk, watching me with a serious look in his blue eyes.

I quirked a brow, before returning my gaze to the papers I was holding in my hands. "Sakura's a big girl," I answered. "She can take care of herself."

"No, she can't," he insisted, shaking his head.

I looked up at him, curious.

"She thinks she can, but she can't. She takes care of everybody but herself."

I shrugged. "Well, she is a medic. She's supposed to do that."

"She's taking it too far!" he insisted.

I almost rolled my eyes. He seemed positively desperate, and had it not been for the fact that everything that had to do with Sakura irritated me, I would have probably been amused.

"No, she's not."

"Teme, I really think I know her better than you do," the dobe said. "Just promise me you'll take care of her if she ever needs it, alright?"

"Hn," I grunted disinterestedly.

From the corner of my eyes, I saw him grin. "And take care of yourself, too, because hell, you haven't showed much self-preservation while we were here," he added.

I raised an eyebrow as I returned my gaze to him. When had he even learned such long words, anyway? "What is that supposed to mean?" I demanded.

"Your arrogance?" he suggested, rolling his eyes. "I mean, _hello_! Haven't you seen Sakura-chan's eyes burning?"

I continued to look at him blankly.

Naruto laughed. "And she calls _me_ clueless," he said. "You piss her off pretty badly, Sasuke. She's managed to hold off very well until now, I'm surprised by how well considering the way she reacted when Baa-chan assigned her the mission. But one day, you're gonna get knocked through a wall and you won't even know what hit you."

"Tch," I scoffed. "Not going to happen."

I almost frowned when the dobe continued to look at me with a grin on his face and a freakish expression in his eyes.

"You keep telling yourself that. But you're not used to having this Sakura-chan around. You don't know her anymore. And you'd do best not to underestimate her."

* * *

Three days later, Naruto and Kakashi left for Konoha.

To be perfectly honest, I found it rather strange to see that Sakura wasn't there to spend the remaining time in their company. It was obvious she was fond of both of them, so her absence was, for the lack of a better word, weird.

True, I only came home late at nights, but I knew from my own reliable sources exactly how much time she spent in the hospital every day—and she seemed so engrossed in her work there that she forgot about everything around her.

It made me consider the idea of the dobe not being completely stupid for worrying about her.

Consider it was all I did, though.

The thought of spending an entire year—or even another couple of months—with her sounded both terrifying and appealing, and it was such a ridiculous combination that I refused to even bother to try to find an explanation. It wouldn't matter, either way.

To my surprise, she made an appearance at the gates at the very last moment, even after I had managed to fight the dobe off me, dressed in a pair of scrubs and a thin, white tank-top. Naruto threw me a meaningful look as she hugged him tightly around the neck, one that said I'd better keep a promise I hadn't even made, because it was obvious he had been right.

I didn't acknowledge it. I didn't argue. I didn't do anything.

But deep inside, I knew I would look out for her from now on.

* * *

_**A/N:**__ This is the point I should have reached before January. I obviously didn't, but hey, at least I caught up! _

_Thank you all for your comments and your support! They mean the world to me! :)_

_Review! _


	25. Twenty Four

**Sakura's Point of View**

Over the years, I had changed so much that I could now barely recognize myself when I looked back to what I used to be: scared, emotional, insecure.

There was nothing left of that girl. I was a woman now, confident and independent; I was even famous, to a certain degree. I had worked hard, but I had also managed to reach the height of success. Now, people relied on me, and I never disappointed them.

Although… there was something about me that had remained the same despite all my attempts at changing it: my need to be around people. Of course, I wasn't overly social, like Ino was, but I needed to feel the warmth of the people who loved me, who appreciated me, who respected me. I had that in Konoha. That was what my village meant for me—security, comfort, and love.

From that angle, Otokagure offered nothing to me.

That being said, I couldn't deny the fact that I felt alone and almost scared, now that Naruto and Kakashi were gone. I had nobody here. No one greeted me when I walked on the streets, like I was accustomed to back home, and the atmosphere at the hospital—the place where I had loved being in Konoha—was anything but welcoming. For the first time in a while, the future looked uncertain, and although I had never really cared much about being in control of every single detail, that thought scared me more than I was ready to admit, even to myself.

Some would say I had Sasuke. Some would say he hadn't actually done anything to upset me since I arrived there. I had been the one to provoke him, or else he would have been as aloof about this whole situation as he was about everything. I would readily admit to that, but the truth was that I didn't _need_ him to do anything to upset me. I had promised Naruto that I wouldn't reject him if he wanted to take a step in the right direction, and it hadn't been a lie said to appease him, but the way I saw it, Sasuke couldn't look to the future without making peace with the past.

So, until that Uchiha didn't come to me and apologize for every single little thing he had wronged me in, no progress would be made in our relationship.

I was also sure he would never do something as petty as apologize to an insignificant old teammate, so I had an excuse to continue to give him exactly what he deserved. It was annoying how people could be left off the hook with a simple apology they didn't even mean half of the time, and I was glad that Sasuke didn't fall in that category. He was capable of many, many things, but ass-kissing wasn't one of them.

Regardless of everything else, though, I needed to focus. I needed to turn this mission in a resounding success for more than one reason. Determined, I dove straight into work.

The week following my teammates' departure was so busy I didn't even make it home on a few occasions. I did the full checkup and, with the help of Keiko, arranged all the information neatly in the archive room. I tested my students, answered their hesitantly asked questions, and gave them another stack of papers to study. I lost count of how many injuries I healed.

On the bright side, I received a couple of smiles from some of my most non-judgmental patients.

They made everything worth it.

* * *

Another two weeks slowly passed, and as I was swimming in paperwork, the weather was steadily becoming colder.

That particular day, I was glaring at my reflection in the mirror as I pulled half of my hair behind my head to avoid it falling into my eyes. I was wearing a deep red blouse that emphasized my waist and a pair of black pants, as well as the killer heels I had bought myself as a present—or therapy, it depended on the way you looked at it—the day before.

The amount of work at the hospital had dwindled down a small fraction, not enough for me to claim I was almost done, but enough to sleep in for another hour in the mornings.

I seemed to be in a foul mood despite that. The truth was I was much more homesick than I cared to admit.

When I arrived at the hospital, I made my way to the canteen; I could make it through an entire twenty-four hour shift with almost nothing, but I never managed to last even a couple of hours without a bottle of water by my side.

I was surprised to enter the room to chatter and laughter and a fairly large group of people. I could recognize a part of my students and the two women that worked behind the counter almost every day. I thought about approaching, but stopped in the doorway.

"What are you doing?" I asked, genuinely curious.

"We're thinking of baking a cake!" one of the women that worked in the canteen, the one who I knew went by the name of Aiko, answered.

She and her colleague were always in a cheery disposition. Aiko had two children at home and a husband who loved her, while Katsumi was engaged—and also to someone who loved her very much, if the glittering ring on her finger was any indication. They always smiled at me, and because I often opted for a quick lunch in the hospital, they had even learned what I most enjoyed and prepared it beforehand when the day was slow and the orders few.

In rest, I was greeted with the same hostility of always. Their rudeness or rejection didn't bother me as much as their mistrust did. I knew I had done little conscious effort to earn their respect, but I was there to help—and after nearly two months of my being there, normal would have been if they had realized that.

"There's that group of children that were admitted over the week—"

"With the flu," I completed, knowing what Aiko was talking about. The situation in Oto was so messed up that children developed complications even because of a banal virus.

"Yes," she agreed. "And because they'll be released soon and because they don't have any interdictions when it comes to food, we want to bake them a cake—to make them smile."

A small smile curled the corners of my lips upwards as I pushed away from the doorframe. "How about we bake them some cupcakes?" I suggested.

My entire day brightened in an instant at the thought of doing something good for someone else. I worked in the hospital day and night and yet nothing seemed to give me the satisfaction I was used to having back in Konoha. Was it because of the environment? I often wondered. Was it because Otokagure was the last place I wanted to be? I didn't know. But at this point in my journey, I was willing to make a change.

"That's a good idea," Katsumi remarked. "We can make them more colorful—and different."

My smile widened until it took over my entire expression. "Then it's settled! I'll help."

* * *

I was sprinkling the finishing details on my batch of colorful, chocolate cupcakes when I was approached by someone I least expected. I sensed her presence beside me and I glanced up at her for a brief moment, but because she kept silent, I returned my gaze to my decorating task.

It was a long minute before she opened her mouth to speak.

"I… I just want you to know that I thought you were a bitch," she declared.

I paused my activity to grant her my full attention.

She shook her head. "Scratch that, I still do. I thought you came here thinking of yourself all high and mighty and—and everything. But what you've been doing… it's amazing. And when you work… you're amazing. And right now… I don't think there's anything wrong with thinking you're superior… when you really are."

I blinked in surprise. I remembered Ayame. I'd had to snap my fingers and distract her from Sasuke's presence the very first day I entered the hospital, and she'd never once addressed me since.

She was quite a beauty. She had sleek, dark hair that was almost always caught in a high ponytail and the lightest blue eyes I had ever seen to contrast with it; her cheekbones were sculpted and her lips full, and her body was slim, fit, and tall.

"I… am a bitch, too," she admitted. "I'm standoffish, I guess. And maybe I do have a thing for Uchiha-sama—who doesn't, right?" She scoffed and rolled her eyes.

I desperately wanted to roll mine, but I suppressed the urge.

"But I give people what they deserve. And you deserve my respect. You've earned it."

I blinked, before averting my eyes from hers. It took me a moment to come to terms with what I had just heard and formulate my own response. It was the last thing I had expected to hear and she was the last person I had expected to come forward and say it.

"…We are a bit alike," I eventually offered. "I've learned—the hard way, you can say—to give people what they deserve, too. And… I admit, being here wasn't my choice. Maybe that was one of the reasons why I seemed so unreachable in the beginning. But I've accepted it now, and I want you to know that it was never my intention to make you feel any less of the amazing persons that you are… for being here and going through everything you've gone through and still want to save lives. I do respect you. It may have not seemed like it, but I do."

* * *

_**A/N:**__ The chapters are short and will remain short. That's exactly the reason why there's no significant interaction between Sasuke and Sakura yet. I'm not going to rush the content of the story just because the number of chapters is high._

_Thank you for your support! Please review, I love reading your thoughts! _


	26. Twenty Five

**Sasuke's Point of View**

The first month, I almost never saw her at all. She was always in the hospital. Either that, or our schedules didn't match in the slightest.

She asked for a team of genins once, something about cleaning up a couple of rooms in the hospital. I didn't pay her more attention than was necessary to give her what she wanted. It was exactly the way I had said: she had control over everything that was related to the hospital. It was her problem entirely what she chose to do.

And maybe it was stupid of me to trust her as much as I obviously did, since I was basically allowing her to rule over one of the most important—if not simply _the_ most important—institutions in a ninja village, but the truth was that I had no reason not to. I had seen her in action. _This_ was her environment, _this_ was where her true self came to light. And it was there, in the surgery ward, dressed in scrubs and not in heels, that she couldn't hide from me, that she couldn't lie and couldn't pretend. She was here to do good, no matter how hard her behavior towards me may scream otherwise, and there was no doubt in my mind that she would.

I was busy, as well. Between reports and treaties and mission assignments, my mind was anywhere but on her.

That night, I arrived home earlier than usual. It was around eleven in the evening, I had a stack of papers under my arm, and my eyes were closing on their own accord. And to think I usually either made it to my bedroom around three in the morning, or never made it there at all and stayed in my office instead.

But after realizing that I had done nothing half of the entire day because I was too busy trying to coax myself not to fall asleep, I reached the conclusion that I needed a few hours of proper rest—even if that kept me away from paperwork that desperately needed to be done.

Walking into the kitchen to pour myself a glass of cold water and leave the stack of files on the counter in the process, I continued on my way and never realized I was taking the wrong staircase up or why until I opened a door and caused artificial light to pour into the hallway. I furrowed my brows and squinted until my eyes adjusted to the change. Something in my brain clicked, and I sighed.

Sakura was awake and I had no doubt that she was as much of a bitch at this hour of the night as she was during the day and she would be horribly pissed that I was now stepping in what she had deemed her "personal space", but if she wanted to be strangled, that was fine with me.

I stepped inside the room and closed the door more forcefully than was necessary behind me.

Sakura looked up from where she was curled up on the couch, green eyes curious and brows furrowed slightly. Her long hair was pinned up in a mess of curls on top of her head, several strands escaping their hold to frame her heart-shaped face. The table in front of her was littered with papers. She had her hand on an open file, and a small bowl sat innocently on an empty spot on the table—a bowl filled with a mixture of what I could only guess was ice-cream, chocolate, and to my utter annoyance, crushed Oreos.

How in the world she kept so fit was beyond me, I realized as I eyed her legs, taking into account the cabinet filled to the brim with sweets I had stumbled upon—and cursed—the other week.

"What's going on?" she demanded, raising an eyebrow. "Are we starting to trespass our properties?"

I glared.

"Ohh, but since you're here!" she exclaimed, her disposition changing as she laid her pen down on top of the papers and moved to stand.

My eyes nearly bulged out of my head.

She was dressed in the skimpiest piece of lingerie I had ever seen—a small baby-doll that seemed to have some sort of animal print on it and that tied with a bow in the front. Her legs were long and luscious and her breasts were round and full, nearly spilling over the corsage; her smooth, toned abdomen was in plain sight and so was her ass when she turned around to head for the staircase. "Stay here, I need to give you something."

It wasn't as if I could actually move, so I did.

I had to shake my head and blink a couple of times in order to bring myself back to reality—the reality where I hated her more than I wanted to jump her.

Footsteps sounded down the hallway again before I could properly convince every part of me.

"Here," she said as she reappeared in my line of sight, holding a file out to me. "You need to sign this. It's a document that makes me the head of the hospital—legally. It's basically a piece of paper that will give me the authority to make all the changes I want."

I raised an eyebrow and looked at her in the eye. Mainly because I didn't trust myself to glance any lower than her lips. It had been too long and she was dressed too provocatively.

Strangely enough, she didn't seem to care; she had absolutely no qualms about my seeing her in almost nothing but a see-through scrap of material.

"I thought you'd never listen to my orders—thus never need my authority," I goaded.

She smiled. "You're right, I don't. Which is why I already made all the changes I wanted. That," she gestured to the file in my hands, "would make them legal. It's up to you whether you want your country to be moral or immoral." Pausing for a moment, she shrugged, and her green eyes twinkled. "Though I supposed you'd have it either way, since you're used to both."

It still amazed me, how this woman could make me go from needing to take the coldest shower in history to wanting to strangle her in a mere couple of seconds.


	27. Twenty Six

**Sasuke's Point of View**

Another week slowly crawled by and my paperwork slowly but surely began to subside as I started to catch up. As the constructions in the village were, one by one, finished, there were no more additional documents for me to read and sign. No more stacks of files accumulated over night. Now, what I had to deal with was an almost regular influx of files filled with missions and reports. Furthermore, as I finally began to see who deserved my trust, I was able to delegate more. Now it wasn't the same amount of information that reached me, but rather only what was most important. I was more grateful than I ever thought I would be to be left out of the loop for the insignificant details. You couldn't run an entire village by yourself, that was for sure.

I even managed to slip in a serious training session one day, which practically put me in a good mood for the rest of the week. It was something, alright, to truly enjoy the little things you always took for granted before—and I think I learned that lesson.

One of the important cases that reached me once was about an ANBU member I had sent to investigate a potential threat to the village. The information wasn't good and it came straight from the hospital.

I headed there as soon as I managed to free myself from the most demanding obligations. The automatic doors slid open to allow me in. The atmosphere was buzzing with activity, as usual; people moving from one way to the other, doctors rushing, patients being submitted while others were being discharged.

It was true that my office was hell on earth, but this place… It never did see any calm. It never did sleep.

Avoiding the ER, I headed for the elevator to ride up to the second floor. People greeted me as I passed and I answered with corresponding nods. I still wasn't used to the attention, and I guess I wasn't on my way there, either, but at least I didn't loathe it anymore.

The elevator doors opened, and my eyes fell straight on her—as they usually did. I didn't know what it was about her that made her stand out in the thickest crowd so that I always found her with absolutely no effort at all. I blamed her pink hair, and I didn't think I was wrong.

I hadn't seen her in almost a week, I realized, and hadn't talked to her in at least two. Steeling myself for yet another confrontation, I began to make my way towards where she was leaning against the receptionist's desk, dressed in a set of light green scrubs and with her pink hair caught up in a high ponytail. She was talking to who I knew was Keiko, and as I approached them, it became clear that she was explaining something to her, while drawing on a piece of paper.

"Everybody will need to have these ID cards with them once they're made," she said.

I came to stand beside her and rested a hand on the counter. Keiko smiled and nodded in greeting. Sakura did neither, but I wasn't stupid enough to believe she wasn't aware of my presence.

"They won't have access to anywhere in the hospital without them. I want name and position clearly stated on them—and on the back," she continued, moving to the other half of the paper to draw another rectangle, "I want all the emergency codes listed. Of course, not everybody will be able to enter the same places, but that's something I'll see to myself."

Placing the cap back on the pen she had been writing with, she handed the paper to Keiko over the counter.

"I'll make sure someone takes care of this right away," she announced, before rushing from behind her station.

Sakura turned to face me, one arm still on the counter, resting her cheek against her hand.

I wanted to smirk down at her. If I was a full head taller than her when she wore heels, she barely reached my shoulder now.

After a moment in which she seemed to contemplate something while staring at me, she spoke, boredom evident in her voice, "I suppose I should make sure you have an ID, too. You should be able to wander around, what with your position and all that."

I quirked an eyebrow, but remained silent.

She sighed. "You're not here to see my pretty face, are you?"

"No," I answered.

Turning around, she grabbed a file from where it lay on top of a small stack and then handed it to me. "Yes, someone clearly tried to kill him. Yes, he was poisoned. Someone _really_ wanted him dead, because he was beaten up six ways to Sunday after he was poisoned. Yes, he is awake and you can see him. Room 224."

Efficiency. Quick and to the point. It was everything I wanted from my people and everything they sometimes failed to understand. She obviously didn't. But because she was Sakura, that pissed me off. It unnerved me and it irked me and, soon enough, I realized that I hated it with a passion I hadn't hated something in a long time.

* * *

She demanded to see me the following morning. I chose 'demanded' because there was no other word to describe what she did.

Seeing as I was more dignified than her, I met her at the café she had mentioned without complaint. It was early enough for the mist to have yet to lift from the ground and the town to be only now waking up, but I wasn't a person who could afford to spend five more minutes lounging in bed or to enjoy a longer shower or even to have breakfast, and I supposed she wasn't, either.

I found her sitting at a table in a corner, next to the large, floor-to-ceiling window that faced out into the street. She was dressed in a black top with matching tights and heels, but with a red skirt. Her pink hair was braided to one side and she was sipping from cappuccino while biting from a sugar-topped pastry.

She wasted no time at all once I was seated across from her.

"This is your pass," she announced, sliding it over the table to me. "You will be granted access basically everywhere in the hospital, but I'd suggest you don't go wandering around without anybody with you—or without a reason. That could be… problematic. These are the files you need to have," she continued, pulling out a thick manila envelope from her bag and handing it over to me. "I know you said you didn't care, that you don't want to have anything to do with the hospital, that it's entirely my responsibility—yada, yada, yada. But it's my responsibility to inform you of the changes that have been made, whether you're interested in knowing or not. You don't have to read them, but it's a formality that needs to be done. Now, I organized everything exactly the way I wanted; I'll train the medics until they're on an acceptable level, and then I'll leave. Convenient enough."

I spent a moment in silence, staring down at the envelope lying in front of me on the table. "You were more efficient than I thought you would be," I admitted.

She smiled. "It's you," she coed.

I raised an eyebrow.

"Seeing your face every day drives me forward… because I simply cannot wait not to have to see it every single day."

I rolled my eyes.

But the truth was, this jibe that she seemed to keen on throwing at me, this manner in which she chose to provoke me over and over again every single time we met… It wasn't as irritating as it used to be. Slowly but surely, it was becoming familiar—something I could count on in the midst of my most unpredictable day.

I wasn't about to say it wasn't annoying me anymore, because that was Sakura to me—she had always been that and it seemed as though she would always be it—but now there were other things that bothered me much, much more than her bitchy attitude.

Hn, imagine _that_.

* * *

_**A/N:**__ Sorry for the long wait, everybody! I had loads of schoolwork and three huge exams. But thank you for your patience and your support!_

_**Orange**__, I want you to know that I didn't ignore your other review; I just had no way of answering you. I did take into account everything you said, and I will work on showing Sakura's development more than having others talk about it. It's a little more difficult in this story because I chose to have the chapters so short, so it will take a while until I reach the point in my plot where I will have to show more than tell. Also, Sakura's not immature; she acts the way she acts around Sasuke for a reason, and if you're patient, you'll see that. I don't think it's contradicting that she said she won't deny him if he's the one to make the first step when she explained exactly what that first step would have to be—him apologizing. But again, I do appreciate your constructive criticism and I will work on the weak points you mentioned._

_However, there are some aspects that are characteristic to my writing style—like the fact that I choose to show the outfits the women are wearing or the way I choose to portray my female characters (at least the ones I've had the chance to try my hand at writing until now). It's not that I think women are always picture-perfect in real life, that would be stupid of me, and my characters aren't, either. I'm not throwing things into the story for the heck of it, I'm trying to build Sakura's character—even through little things. Like the title says, Sakura's a grown, independent woman here—and that's just the way I see independence: confidence, beauty and the like. _


	28. Twenty Seven

**Sakura's Point of View**

I was slipping my right arm into my cardigan when there was a knock on my door.

I inwardly groaned.

My shift was supposed to end the night before, at ten; it was now eleven in the morning and I had only left the surgery room ten minutes prior. If someone was on the other side of the door to tell me that something had happened—_again_—I was going to flip out and break something.

I loved my job, I truly did, but that didn't mean it was the only thing I wanted to do in my life. Sometimes, sleep was nice; showering, too.

"Come in," I said, somehow managing to keep the irritation out of my voice. I lifted a leg up on my leather chair to strap my heels on.

A familiar mop of blond hair popped its way through the open door. The accompanying face was smiling all too brightly to be calling me back down to the ER.

I could have screamed my happiness for the world to hear; instead, I heaved a sigh of relief.

"I heard you've been in here longer than you can remember," he voiced.

I switched legs and gave him a brief smile.

Daichi was one of the most promising medics I had come in contact with during my short time in Oto. He was determined and dedicated and always ready to absorb every new piece of information that came his way. He was also incredibly smart and had nearly perfect chakra control. And as if all that wasn't already enough to make him into an amazing medic, he was also one of the few that I knew that truly cared about each and every single one of his patients. He went out of his way to get to know them and their stories, to visit them and monitor their progress even if they were no longer his responsibility.

I used to do that in Konoha, as well; I used to be one of those few. There, the shifts actually had a meaning and a purpose, and if I stayed overtime in the hospital, that was because I wanted to, not because the place would tumble down without my presence. Times when I was actually obligated to do that were few and far in between.

Here, however, spending the entire day in the surgery room seemed to be a given. Under such conditions, it was hard to bond with my coworkers, not to mention my patients.

"I have no idea who could have told you that, but you heard right," I answered.

Daichi was also one of the few persons with whom I'd had an excellent relationship from the very beginning. He never glared at me and never reacted negatively to my decisions without a reason. I could even go as far as saying he was almost _excited_ about my presence there.

I guess the best way to put it was that he had been one of the few to see that I was there as a help, and not a threat.

"Someone also told me you might have not eaten," he continued, leaning against the doorframe with his shoulder.

I lowered my leg to the ground and straightened my posture.

"Here's the deal. I know where they make the best yakitori in town. Take it or leave it."

I grinned. "And what do you think a starving woman's choice would be?"

* * *

Daichi was right. The food was delicious—the most delicious I'd had the opportunity to taste in a long while, long before I even came to Otogakure.

What with my two demanding professions, I was basically the type of person that lived on take-out and sandwiches—which, admittedly, I had become an expert at doing over the years. Having Naruto as a teammate, I suppose ramen could also be included on my list of most eaten foods. Only the occasional night-out with the girls had me diversifying my diet, but that had long since stopped bothering me.

That was not to say I didn't enjoy cooking, because I did. When I had a rare day off and I would manage to escape Ino's evil clutches, I would spend it inside. I would cook something delicious—as only I knew how—and I would curl up on the couch with a good book and a mountain of pillows. Those were my favorite evenings, and I rarely had the chance to live them.

"So…" I started after taking a sip of my soda, gazing over the table at the man sitting before me. "What brought this about?"

His blue eyes crinkled at the corners when he grinned. "Well, I was hungry and knew you were hungry, so I figured we could keep each other company."

I shrugged, accepting his answer, and reached for my food.

"Well, actually," he added, "I have another reason."

I perked up in curiosity.

"The truth is that I really appreciate all you've done."

"Treating me to lunch is nice," I admitted after a moment of silence. "But I'm only doing my job and I haven't even finished it." I took a bite of my chicken, chewed, and then swallowed. "Looking back, though… I've always found it weird that I haven't received a single glare from you."

He shrugged. "It's because… I guess I know more. I've… been to different places and seen different things… and I never really understood how everything was around here and why it was the way it was. No one listened to me when I wanted to make changes; in a way, I don't blame them. I'm just really glad that someone has finally come—someone who sees things my way and who has the authority, and maybe even the courage, to make a difference."

I took another bite of my food without responding. There were a lot of civilized places out there. There were also a lot in need of help; Otogakure had been one of them, especially in matters regarding the medical field—and, I could only imagine, especially during Orochimaru's reign.

"I also think a lot of people don't know what to make out of you yet," he supplied, catching my attention once more.

I shot him an amused grin. "And _you_ do?"

"I tend to believe no one who has done so much good can be as cold and unreachable as they want to seem." He shrugged, and I shook my head with a smile. "You have a history with Otokage-sama and that's—"

Startled, my head snapped up to look at him, the smile long gone from my face.

Daichi laughed. "Hey, I know stuff," he defended, raising his hands in the air. "You were teammates once."

I tried to swallow down my shock and respond. "Yeah," I eventually said. "Once."

"I suppose things changed…" he went on. I was grateful for his nonchalant attitude. "And it's normal that you wouldn't want to be here, with him, now."

My answer came in the form of a whisper. "You have no idea how right you are."

The reason why I 'hated' Sasuke with such a passion wasn't the fact that he'd left me—not anymore. It wasn't even the fact that he would have willingly killed each and every one of us. No. It was the fact that he'd once again stormed into my life and thrown everything upside down. It was the fact that he'd made me loathe the thing I used to love most—the thing that defined me down to the very core of my being. Something I would have jumped at the opportunity of doing in the past, back in Tsunade's office I hadn't known how to pass on to someone else.

I had come to Otogakure to help people, and Sasuke had associated what I most loved doing—with _him_. As usual, he was messing with the foundations of my life. As usual, he was destroying my entire world without even outright trying. And I was making the hardest effort to protect everything I had worked so hard for, to keep him out of my life, to never let him in my heart again.

_That_ was why I tried to close my eyes and not see what he had done good, what he had changed for these people and why they respected him so much. _That_ was why I tried to ignore the fact that, even if he never apologized or seemed sorry, even for a second, for what he had done to me or to us, he didn't goad us or treat us as before. I came here, and he never initiated a single action against me. All he ever did was respond to _my_ hissy fits.

I was not blind. But if what I needed to do in order to keep myself afloat until I was able to leave Otogakure once and forever and never look back was to create an alternate reality around me, a wall that could stop me from even spotting the possibility that maybe he _had_ truly changed, then I would do it. Because, for once, I was more important. I cared about myself more than I cared about him, and that wasn't going to change—never again.

"I've heard a lot of good things about you, Sakura," Daichi continued, snapping me out of my dark thoughts. "And I've been meaning to offer you my help with the hospital. If you'll ever need it."

"Thanks," I answered, giving him a feeble smile. "I really appreciate that."

* * *

My somber mood had dissipated by the time we finished our meal and made our way back to the hospital. I was still tired and in desperate need of a hot bath with all the aromatherapy oils known to the world dumped into it, but on a full stomach my brain seemed to restart—and I came to the conclusion that bringing part of the paperwork home to work on was a good idea.

As it turned out, I was wrong.

But I had no way of knowing that.

I parted ways with Daichi on the second floor. His shift was only now starting, and he joked about it being my turn to treat him out to lunch. I was still smiling and shaking my head as I made my way to my office; there was something about his warm personality and cheerful disposition that reminded me of Naruto, though he was much mellower than who I could only call my best friend.

It was safe to say I was in a much happier place than I was that morning when someone suddenly grabbed my upper arm and began to drag me down the hallway at a fast pace. My eyes wide with shock and surprise, I turned my head to glance at my assaulter and almost immediately growled under my breath.

He stopped, opened the door to my office, hauled me inside as if I was a _chicken_, and followed, slamming the door behind him.

"What the _hell_ is your problem?" I snapped, yanking my arm out of his grasp. It was as if every time I saw him he was in a different mood and it was driving me crazy, because I would much rather never see him again.

"You've already forgotten the reason why you're here?" he hissed, anger dripping from his voice and blazing in his black eyes. "You're confusing flirting with working?"

I had no way of knowing how I must have been looking at that point, but I was pretty sure my eyes had bulged out of my sockets. Was he insane? Was he delusional? Was he plain-out stupid? Or, perhaps the most important question, was he _suicidal_?

"Are you fucking kidding me?" I shrieked after a moment of stunned silence.

His eyes burned, and for the first time in such a long time, I heard Uchiha Sasuke raise his voice. "Don't _fuck_ with me, Sakura! I know what I saw!"

"The fuck you know!" I yelled, still in shock. What in the world was wrong with him? "And you know what? Even if I _was_ flirting with him—why the hell would that be _your_ goddamn problem?"

"_Why_?" he snapped. "_Why_ would it be my problem? Because—"

"As long as I'm doing my job right and you're seeing positive results, I'm under no obligation to answer to _you_," I hissed lowly as I approached him, glaring my strongest death-glare. Soon enough, I was staring at him right in the eye. "I'm a free person, and if I choose to _fuck_ somebody in my free time, that is exclusively _my_ problem! _You_ have no business meddling in it!"

By that point, our faces were so close I could feel his angry, rapid breaths fanning across my lips.

In one brusque movement, his hand reached up and grasped the upper part of my neck, right below my chin, gripping tight and pulling me even closer.

"Goddamn, you piss me off so fucking badly," he said through gritted teeth, glaring down at me.

"Oh, yeah?" I challenged, my hand wrapping tightly around his wrist. "Well, you piss me off, too, you selfish son of a bitch!"

I was unsure of what happened next. One moment, we were engaged in a heated glare contest. The next, we were engaged in something else entirely.

Had I moved? I didn't know. Had _he_ moved? I still didn't know. All I knew was that, suddenly, his lips were against mine—and then reason flew out the window.

It wasn't a kiss, though. It was a battle. It was a fight. And, walls be damned, I fought with everything in me to win it.

Reaching up, I buried my hand in his thick hair and pulled; I heard him groan in my mouth and almost smirked. Sasuke let go of my neck and mimicked my action, while his other hand traveled down my body to press roughly against my lower back. The force of our kiss sent us stumbling backwards and me crashing right into my desk. The wood dug into my hips and I scratched the back of his neck. He hissed in my mouth, grabbed my waist, lifted me up and slammed me onto the hard surface.

Pens and papers crashed to the floor.

I moaned, pulled his hair tighter, and fought harder for dominance.

Everything was nothing more than a blur of passion after that. His hand swept across the desk to clear it completely of its contents; various objects crashed loudly to the floor at the same time I moved both of my hands to his collarbone, grasped the top of his shirt and pulled. The buttons gave and scattered to the ground and in my haze, I was ready to continue.

But then a knock sounded on the door and snapped us out of our world. The bubble we seemed to have been enclosed into until then suddenly snapped, forcing us apart and sending us back to reality.

Breathing heavily, I looked at Sasuke. His eyes were dark, clouded, and unreadable; his lips were swollen, his cheeks were flushed, and his hair was an even worse mess than before.

The person outside the room knocked again.

Averting my gaze, I placed my hands on his chest and roughly pushed him backwards, scrambling to the other side of the room. There, I stopped for a moment to run a hand through my hair in an attempt to tame it, took a deep breath, and twisted the knob.

It was a nurse who had come to search for me. Apparently, Keiko had a couple of files that needed my signature. I answered her questions in a daze and sent her away even more confused than I was when I received her.

By the time I closed the door behind me and turned around to face Sasuke, he was no longer there, and I was met by an open window and a mess on the ground.

What the _hell_ had just happened?

* * *

_**A/N:**__ Action, yay! We're finally getting somewhere, so I hope you've enjoyed this chapter more than the others! _

_Thank you all for your support and please continue to review! :)_


	29. Twenty Eight

**Sakura's Point of View**

A week passed since the weirdest incident on the face of the planet, and I was in the hospital, standing beside Keiko's desk as I leafed through a thick medical file.

Sasuke and I had only met face-to-face _once_ since then; I had also sensed his presence in the house the very same day after the incident. Whether that was because we were busy with our hectic schedules that never did match or because he was avoiding me, though, I had no way of knowing.

I had been lying on my stomach on the edge of the pool that aforementioned day. It had been unusually warm for that time of the year and I told myself that had nothing to do with my personal state. Whatever the case, I had felt the need to cool down, so I took advantage of the sunshine, put on my bathing suit, and jumped straight into the pool.

Thoughts were roaming through my head just as they had done all night in my dreams. I kept recalling the way his hard body felt against mine, the way his surprisingly soft lips moved on my own, the way his thick hair felt in my hand, as well as the effortless way he grabbed my waist and slammed me down on my desk. I supposed it was logical of me to feel all that I was feeling, because it had been a hot make-out session, no matter which angle I tried to study it from, and if that was my body's way of telling me I needed to get laid, then _fine_.

But _still_. This was _Sasuke_. Sasuke, whose guts I hated with all the passion contained in my—admittedly, rather small—body.

So, of course, one could say I hadn't been in the best of moods and because of that, submerging myself in a freezing pool in the midst of autumn hadn't been my brightest idea, no matter how warm the weather was. At least I had a justification.

I was sipping from a cold drink and thumbing a thick book when I sensed his chakra approaching—most likely passing through the living room. I had been aware of the fact that he was in the house, of course. He lingered; I never looked up, and he never made a move to face me. That was most definitely not because he didn't know I was there, because he must have; his chakra control lacked finesse, but he was a ninja, and a powerful one, at that. But he left without saying a word, no doubt teleporting himself to his office.

His demeanor was frustrating, of course, and it continued as such for the following days. He was acting as though that kiss had never happened, and not that I was particularly eager to discuss it, but there was a part of me—a foolish, long-forgotten one—that decided to wake up and feel unexplainably _hurt_ because of this whole charade. Because of that, I spent the entire week feeling strange and stupid. It was obvious he had kissed me out of anger, a sudden outburst of emotion that not even I had been able to control, but still… to look at me in the eye, with no shame and absolutely no recognition of what had transpired between us… It was infuriating and that was that. It was frustrating, painful, and almost embarrassing.

Towards the end of the week, however, my rational side decided to spring up unannounced—and, in return, I decided to hand control over to it. It told me what Sasuke had no reason to avoid me, since he was a selfish, unfeeling bastard that had no conscience whatsoever.

That was reason number one.

Reason number two was that it had been a simple kiss which had meant absolutely _nothing_. I told myself that was my case, too, and made an effort to act accordingly.

It was ridiculous he was even on my mind what with everything I had to think of and all the matters I had to attend to.

"Sakura-san?" a timid voice snapped me out of my thoughts, and I looked up to see two interns staring at me expectantly.

I blinked. "Yes?"

The two women glanced at each other and smiled. "We wanted to ask you something."

I shut the file to show them they had my full attention. "Go ahead."

"We are having dinner tonight," one of them explained. "We try to do once a month—to bond, I guess. What with everything that happens around here… Let's just say it's necessary." She laughed, and I smiled. I knew exactly how important it was to know the ones you worked with, as well as spend time coming down and relaxing with people that knew what you were talking about and felt the same as you did. "And we were wondering if you'd want to join us tonight."

I almost drew back in shock. "Really?" I asked, blinking.

"Yeah," she answered.

I shook my head, flabbergasted, but smiled, nonetheless. "I'd love to," I said. "Thanks."

"Great!" they exclaimed, smiled, and walked away.

I went on with my day feeling much brighter and, strangely enough, more optimistic about the future. Having people stop glaring at my every move was one thing; having them invite me to participate in what I could only call a tradition of theirs was something entirely different.

It was a slow day. I had to scrub in for an emergency surgery at noon, but other than that, there were no major problems that needed my assistance. I checked up on a couple of patients whom I was keeping tabs on, and then made my way to the vending machine in the doctors' lounge to pour myself a cup of hot caffeine. As I was waiting for it to be made, Ayame came to stand beside me, her own plastic cup in her hand.

"I heard you're coming tonight," she declared.

Since our last conversation, one could say our relationship had improved. She wasn't going out of her way to become friends with me, but she was nice and made conversation when I was near her.

"Yes," I answered, reaching for my full cup of coffee. "Any dress code I should know about?" I brought the hot beverage to my lips. It smelled _divine_; my mouth watered and I almost groaned in pleasure.

"Hmm… Sexy," she concluded after a moment of contemplation, nodding.

"Sexy it is," I confirmed, and smiled, because she reminded me of the other best friend I had left behind at home. With Ino, everything was always about being and feeling sexy. I hadn't realized the full extent of how much I missed her until that very moment.

Ayame laughed lightly, but it stopped abruptly and turned into a choked gasp. My head shot up to see what had happened, and when I did, I almost rolled my eyes.

But, of course. _Sasuke_.

He was standing in the doorway, talking to someone I hadn't seen or met before; judging by his uniform, I assumed he was either a random shinobi or part of his personal guard—though I very rarely saw him with one. I was tempted to ask them both what the hell there were doing strolling through my hospital, but I bit my tongue. My personal relationship with Sasuke would _not_ interfere with my work in Otogakure—not more than it already had.

That one time we had faced each other since the incident, it had been on the very corridors of the hospital. I had been pissed for a reason I couldn't quite remember now—perhaps it was lack of sleep—and he hadn't seemed in a much better mood. I had hissed at him, he had hissed back, I had glared and pushed past him.

I'd assumed we were back to normal, and apparently, so had he. (In case something truly _had_ been different in his head.)

Suddenly, Ayame turned to face me, a contemplative look in her eyes. "Do you think… inviting him to have dinner with us would be a great chance that I should take or a stupid mistake that I should avoid?"

"Stupid mistake," I answered automatically.

She blinked, seemed to run what I said through her head, and then nodded to herself. "I'll do it, anyway," she declared, before turning around and making her way in his direction.

I rolled my eyes and shook my head, but decided to watch the scene unfolding before me.

Ayame was her usual confident self as she walked up to Sasuke and interrupted his discussion with the stranger, presenting the issue to him without delay or hesitation. She pointed behind at me once, probably to let him know that I would be there, as well, and I almost snorted, because why would someone think that placing the two of us in the same room would be a good idea or something that either of us desired? With her prompting, Sasuke glanced over at me.

I put on a bored face and brought the cup to my lips, willing this ridiculous situation to come to an end.

Then he smirked, turned his gaze back to Ayame, and I frowned. Gazing down at my coffee, I wondered what it was about me that had him so amused.

Apparently, I was to find out in the seconds that followed.

Ayame squealed. My head snapped up to look in their direction, and I saw Sasuke smirk. Realization hit me. Then I promptly spit out my coffee.

* * *

There was a large grin on my face as I stood in my room, gazing at my reflection in the mirror. Slowly, I ran my hands down my body, over the burgundy lace dress I had donned. It was tight, with sleeves that reached past my elbows and hems that barely brushed my mid-thighs, clinging to my every curve, complementing and enhancing them. My pink hair was up in a somewhat messy up-do I had managed to nail in a matter of five minutes, with strands escaping their place and framing my face. I had chosen to wear the darkest eye-shadow I owned and put every knowledge I had about make-up to good use. My eyes had never looked brighter and my expression had never seemed sultrier.

This was it. If Sasuke wanted to play games, I would happily play them. He obviously had no idea, but the Haruno Sakura I had become never backed down from a challenge. And it was obvious that the trick he had pulled earlier that afternoon with Ayame had been a bone thrown in my direction.

Running my hands over my hips one last time, I smirked, before turning away from the mirror and walking to my wardrobe to retrieve a pair of black heels. I slipped them on and smiled, even more satisfied with my appearance. My legs seemed to go on for miles and miles, and with another grin, I turned around and made my way out of my room and down the stairs.

Sasuke was in the house, I had been able to feel him clearly for a couple of hours; whether he planned on joining me on the walk to the restaurant or had other intentions, I didn't know and it didn't matter.

He was leaning against the counter when I walked into the kitchen, his legs crossed at the ankles and his hand wrapped around a tall glass of water, from which he occasionally sipped.

Completely aware of what I was doing and what it was causing him, I sauntered my way past him, twirled in a circle once, and came to lean against the table, hands behind me, on the wooden structure, lips twisted in a smirk.

It was _his_ turn to choke on his drink.

No one should look as good as I did in a simple lace dress—I knew that, and judging by his expression, he had found out, as well.

I'd give him that, though—he was much more elegant in hiding his reactions than I was.

_Game on, Sasuke._

* * *

The restaurant that was chosen to meet up in was small, classy, and intimate. The interior was decorated tastefully with hues of brown and green, with the occasional speck of red and gold, and the atmosphere was calm; the air was filled with timbres of good music, there was a dance-floor in the middle where people could gather to feel its beat, a band was playing live, and, I would later find out, the food was delicious.

There were people who had yet to arrive when Sasuke and I did, the table not yet filled.

Contrary to my expectations, he did join me on the walk to the restaurant. We bantered infuriatingly—though, in some places, also quite satisfyingly—back and forth all the way there, as seemed to have become so characteristic to us.

I flopped down in a chair at Daichi's right and almost groaned out loud when I saw Sasuke directing his steps in Ayame's direction, who was waving her hand in the air excitedly. I didn't know what was worse: the fact that she thought each and every one of her fantasies was about to come true when I didn't think Sasuke had any intention of participating in any of them, or the fact that he would be sitting across from me and I would therefore have to see him while I ate my food.

Daichi noticed my quickly deteriorating mood and stifled a laugh behind his hand. Sometime between our lunch and the present moment, he seemed to have caught on the tensions that existed between Sasuke and I—and he seemed to find them very amusing.

In response, I looked up at him and threw him a quick glare. He had his arm around a beautiful, petite woman with dark hair and light blue eyes, who I immediately assumed was his girlfriend, since I had seen her visiting at the hospital more than once.

"Shut it," I told him.

He laughed, and I signaled a waiter to come over. I needed a drink, because it was quickly becoming obvious there was _no way_ I would survive the night otherwise.

While he went to get my Corona, I introduced myself to Daichi's companion. Her name was Leila, and they both claimed they were only friends, having known each other since childhood, but I had a feeling they would soon be more. Neither of them seemed to like hearing that, so I decided to save the subject as teasing matter for whenever Daichi decided to laugh at me again.

By the time the others joined us, I had already finished my first bottle of beer and ordered another.

Conversation flowed easily around the table, and it dawned on me it had been such a long time since I had last felt so relaxed, so at ease. I actually didn't think there had ever been a moment in which I had felt truly comfortable and at home in Otogakure, and I realized then how truly grateful I was that these people had invited me to have dinner with them. Apparently, it meant more to me than I initially thought it did.

As time wore on and we ordered our food, I discovered I had a lot in common with Leila, so we ushered Daichi over to her place so that she could stand beside me and he wouldn't have to hear every last bit of our conversations. She was a shinobi and had a team of genin under her care, that she seemed to love teaching and protecting.

On his part, Sasuke seemed to be enjoying the night, as well. I tried not to glance at him, because that would only damper my mood, but it was clear he was hardly uncomfortable, because as much as I tried to ignore that, I was perfectly aware of the fact that everybody respected him and I knew that there were persons at the table that he respected in return and that he deemed worthy of conversing with. I still wasn't sure if Ayame was part of that group or if he was just humoring her, but I decided I didn't care much, either.

Eventually, the night died down. Some people left, while others decided to hit the dance-floor.

I was enjoying a slice of chocolate cake when I raised my eyes and noticed Sasuke was alone.

It could have been the alcohol that made me address him, but I grinned as I licked my spoon clean.

"Why so alone?" I crooned. He heard me over the noise in the restaurant. "Where's your girlfriend?"

His eyes darkened momentarily before his mouth opened to shoot out a response.

"That's not your problem," he said. "Your problem should be trying to be more careful about what you eat. Because _that_," he titled his head towards my dessert, "will go straight to your ass."

I blinked innocently and cocked my head to the side. "What do you mean?" I did my best to sound confused as I stood. "You mean my ass isn't perfect?" Slowly turning around, I showed him my backside, running a hand over it while watching him over my shoulder.

Sasuke was Sasuke, but he was a man. And if there was something I knew other than medicine and shinobi-related information, that was what drove men crazy. Uchiha or not, he wasn't the exception to the rule—oh, no.

As expected, something shifted in his eyes at my action. His gaze lingered for a moment more than was necessary on my ass before flicking up to meet mine as he took a swing of his beer.

"No, I don't think so," he said. His voice was raspy as he spoke.

Daichi and his future girlfriend were trying and failing to hide their laugher at what I could only assume was our interaction.

I could hardly care about them, though.

I grinned, sat back down, leaned back in my seat, and enjoyed watching him squirm, for the very first time, under my gaze. "I think you're lying," I eventually said, scooping another spoonful of cake and bringing it to my mouth. "You're good at it."

If there had been any doubt before, there was none left now. I was truly beginning to enjoy the game we were playing.

Also… I was in the lead.

* * *

_**A/N:**__ Wait for it! Sasuke's point of view is next!_


	30. Twenty Nine

**Sasuke's Point of View**

The atmosphere was charged when I stepped inside the hospital that day. Thunder rumbled ominously at regular intervals, followed by swift flashes of lightening, as the dark skies prepared to open up and soak the city to the bone.

I honestly could care less about that as I made my way down the long, white corridors, heading straight for my destination. I needed to see Sakura, because I needed her to sign a document for me. Conveniently enough, I never managed to catch her in the house long enough to thrust the file in her hands, so I had to resort to dragging my feet all the way from my office to hers. Which was, to say the least, annoying.

It had been a couple of days since we went to dinner with her colleagues, and I hadn't as much as bumped into her since. While I was immensely grateful for that, I had to admit I would have rather had to stand her annoying aura while she scanned over the document and signed her name at the bottom, even though that basically meant being in the same room with her for more than a minute. At least it would have saved me the trip to the hospital.

So I suppose her absence—as well as her presence—in my house could be both a blessing or a curse, depending on the circumstances.

…But what was I saying? Her presence—a blessing? In what alternate universe? Because, certainly, not in the one we lived.

Rolling my eyes at my own train of thought, I stepped out of the elevator as the doors slid open and headed down the familiar hallway.

As expected, I found her in her office. I entered without even bothering to knock, and there she was, flipping lazily through what seemed to be a magazine. She was dressed casually, in a black, long-sleeved shirt and tight, matching pants; her feet were clad in a pair of high-heeled boots and were kicked up on her desk, while her forest-green eyes studied the colorful pages with little interest. She seemed perky and awake, but more bored than anything else.

My eyes narrowed.

"You have the right to take three days off per month, you knew that?" I inquired, only half wanting to annoy her. If the dobe had been right about one thing in his pathetic existence, that was, without a doubt, Sakura's workaholic nature. The stupid woman never rested. She stayed holed up in the hospital even when she had no business there, and when she was home, she was constantly with her nose buried in medical books.

"Sasuke, Sasuke," she sighed, mockingly shaking her head, but her eyes remained fixed on her magazine. "You'll never get anywhere if you keep taking breaks, honey."

My eye twitched. "But if you're bored—and no one needs you—it's better to take one," I countered calmly.

She rolled her eyes. "Medicine can't be taught overnight, Sasuke," she told me, without meeting my gaze. "My students need some time to put in practice everything they've learned, to get used to their new abilities, to allow all the information to sink in their systems. And I need to be around in case of an emergency." Finally looking up, she gave me a tight smile, filled with so much hostility and sarcasm that I instantly hated it. "Don't worry. I know how to do my job."

I glared, frustration bubbling its way to the surface of my skin so effortlessly it was almost startling.

It was my first time back in her office from what I had come to refer to as 'the incident'—meaning, when I grabbed the medic in charge of my hospital by the hips and proceeded to _almost_ dry hump her on her desk.

I still didn't know what had come over me at that point. It had been a spur of a moment type of reaction. I had been angry and she had been annoying. Her full lips had been too close for me to resist.

It had meant nothing and she had known it, too, but the truly annoying part wasn't that I hadn't been able to restrain myself. The truly annoying part was that I wanted a _repeat_ of that performance.

The moment I walked in the living the following morning to see her sprawled out on the edge of my pool with a book in her hands a straw between her lips, with her hair wet and disheveled and her little pink bathing suit covering barely half of what it should have been covering… Well, let's just say my safest bet had been to back away and never come back that day—or any other time when she happened to be in the house.

I wanted to kiss her when I bumped into her later that week. I wanted to kiss her the other night. (…Well, more than I wanted to _kiss_ her I wanted to palm her ass, because no one should look that good in a stupid lace dress, but that was beside the point.) I wanted to kiss her every day since then. And I wanted to kiss her _now_. I also wanted to strangle her, but then again, that was an entirely different story.

With a sigh, she closed her magazine and laid it on her lap, folding her hands on top of its glossy cover. "So, what brings you here?"

"I need you to sign a document," I answered, throwing the manila envelope I had been carrying on top of her desk.

She raised a perfectly shaped, pink eyebrow. "You enjoy walking, Sasuke?" she inquired as she lowered her legs to the floor and reached for the yellow envelope.

I rolled my eyes, burying my hands in the pockets of my pants. "It's confidential," I replied swiftly. "And it's also my duty to supervise you."

Sakura snorted, an amused smile pulling at the corners of her lips. "Of course," she said, "I momentarily forgot that your duty means everything to you. Together with loyalty—and other stuff like that."

My gaze instantly sharpened into a glare once the words were out of her mouth, but I wisely chose not to press on the matter. She had moments when she dished out such responses to me, and I grew annoyed each and every single time. Sometimes, I grew _angry_—so angry I saw red, because who was _she_ to judge me? She didn't understand. Never had and never would. But, at the end of the day, I figured that, after everything I had done to _her_, personally, she had the right to be bitter and distrustful. At the moment, I didn't have sufficient energy to even try to prove her wrong. Maybe, someday, I would. But not now, and not when she was too stubborn and not at all ready to see things for what they were in the present, and not for what they used to be in the past. Then again, maybe she never would be.

She signed the file without even looking over it once, and after slipping the papers into the envelope, she handed them back to me.

I accepted them and immediately turned to leave, not wanting to spend a moment more than necessary in her presence, but her voice stopped me before I was even out the door.

"Hey," she said.

My hand on the doorknob, I turned to face her so that she could see she had my attention.

"Do you happen to have a library somewhere? A more formal one, so to say."

* * *

I waited for her as she pulled her coat on and even as she ducked into a small café on our way in order to fetch herself a cup of hot coffee. I had no other choice. I knew she would only come to pester me when she was done, and I would rather not have her in my office; being confined in there most of the time was already annoying enough.

The library I knew she had asked about was inside the Tower. I guess one could say it was somewhat hidden, since not many people knew of its existence. It was filled to the brim with archives and documents Orochimaru had never truly cared about or paid much attention to. I, on the other hand, did. He hadn't cared that his country was messed up, and that was understandable, considering how everybody already knew that everything he was doing was illegal and wanted to bring him down for numerous other, much graver reasons. But I wasn't him, and I did want everything to be in order.

Even though, obviously and naturally, the most important documents were placed under key and in my own office, there were still important historical files housed there; not very many, since, again, this was Orochimaru we were talking about, but there were enough for the library to have restricted access.

The fact that I allowed her in there simply because she was bored should have been an honor.

But then again, this was _Sakura_.

"So, why do you keep the library in here? So cut-off from the world, I mean. Don't your people have the right to have access to a little culture, or what?"

I heaved a sigh as I leaned against the doorframe and watched her wander inside the room, green eyes curious, yet analytic, as they took in the large space around her.

"Don't be annoying," I deadpanned. Apparently, I'd had enough of her quirks for the day. "This is full of archives."

She raised her eyebrows and turned to face me. "So, how come I'm allowed inside?"

"I'm allowing you here on account that you will keep your mouth shut and stop pestering me for at least a couple of hours."

Her eyes hardened instantly at my response, and she all but slammed her bag down on a nearby chair. "You're the one who came to me, you insect," she spat.

I wanted to smirk, but not as badly as to actually go through with the action. "Hn," I grunted. "You have the key here." Stepping inside, I laid it down on a table. "Lock up when you're finished and bring it back to me."

Of course, when I turned around and left, closing the door behind me, I knew it would be a long time until I saw her again. As full of archives as the place was, it was also full of medical books. I had seen them with my own eyes, leafed through them with my own hands—and understood _nothing_.

But if she was as dedicated as I thought her to be—and I had a feeling she was, considering the many books I'd crashed into and tripped over every single time I walked upstairs through _her_ living room when she wasn't home—she would be there for a longer time than even she herself had anticipated.

Which was, of course, perfect. Anything to keep her out of my hair… literally.


	31. Thirty

**Sakura's Point of View**

The library Sasuke had shown me into was a large room, with white walls and floor-to-ceiling windows. Bookshelves lined every wall, stretching up to the ceiling; the room itself had to go up at least two floors. There was a wooden staircase leading up to the upper levels of the bookcase, while a balcony lined the massive structure. Rows of metal cabinets lined the bottom part of each bookcase, obviously under lock and obviously containing confidential documents. In the middle of the room lay two large tables surrounded by velvet-padded chairs.

The windows were narrow, but tall, and they lined the walls, letting natural light shine through and envelop the entire room. I could see all of Oto through them, much like Sasuke could from his office, at the top of the building, but I wasn't foolish enough to even consider the possibility that someone from the outside could peak inside. There had to be either a Genjutsu in place or the windows had to be made of a special type of glass, because no one would be stupid enough to let his library—containing everything that was confidential and vital to his state—unguarded and under the eyes of everybody who cared to look.

Sasuke was a prick. And he _was_ an asshole. I had all the right in the world to say that and everybody should believe me because I _knew_ what I was talking about.

But he was not stupid—far from it.

The reason why I had wanted to come here was because I thought I would find a book—anything as long as it was intellectually challenging, really—to keep myself entertained. Fashion magazines were not my type, no matter how much Ino had tried to force them down my throat back in Konoha.

I was hoping for a history book. What I found instead was rows after rows of rare medical books.

It was incredible how much material Otogakure had. I spent hours locked up in the library, completely lost in yellowed pages, and I could have spent days, weeks—months, even, studying them all. There were books not even Tsunade had been able to get her hands on; books I had heard about but never saw; books I had no idea existed; connections I had no idea had been made; subjects I had no idea had been approached.

Two hours in, and I was itching to tell my old mentor about everything I had read. I'd stopped being her apprentice a couple of years back; she'd admitted herself that she had nothing more to teach me, but what made medicine so amazing was the fact that one never really stopped learning. With the same passion running through our veins, the two of us were constantly exchanging information, conducting research, discussing hypotheses… Spell "medicine" and we were there. Well, I more than she, because she also happened to have another passion—alcohol—and she was Hokage, which took up most of her time. Regardless of that, she was still the person I ran to whenever I needed advice.

I wondered if I could write her a letter… and soon came to the conclusion that shouldn't be impossible. Surely, neither Sasuke nor Tsunade expected me to isolate myself from the world simply because I was on a mission. I did miss my friends, so maybe I could throw in a couple of lines for them, as well. It was something I hadn't considered until then, and it brightened my day somewhat.

_Somewhat_—because the books I found lit it up with _fireworks_.

It was unbelievable how much information I was able to find and how little of it was actually valued, used, put in practice. It was a shame and a waste, and to my medical mind, it was a _crime_.

The things that could be done… the heights that could be reached… how much easier everything could become…

If these people had known of a _quarter_ of the amazing things they could find in their library and in their country, I doubted, with my entire being, that Orochimaru would have been able to take advantage of them as he had. Hideous persons like him could only impose their reign in places where people were weak enough to hand over control to him without a decent fight.

But knowledge was power and what I was holding in my hands and had spread all over the table… _this_ was knowledge—a hell of a lot of knowledge.

And I realized then… I could make them aware of that. I could go beyond what I had been assigned to do there and do something truly amazing for them—something that perhaps no on else would be able to do in a long time from now.

But _should_ I do it?

The answer was ridiculously easy, considering all the implications that simple question held.

* * *

It was already nightfall when I stood from my seat to clean my small working area. I returned the books to their place and left them behind with a longing glance, before slipping on my coat and gathering the rest of my belongings.

I technically _could_ have asked Sasuke to let me bring a book home, but with another request to be made that day, there was always the risk of his ego inflating so much Otogakure would burst. And that was most definitely _not_ what I wanted.

After locking up, I made my way up the stairs, to his office. I greeted the people I encountered on my way and that I could recognize, though the activity seemed to have dwindled. It was no wonder, considering the time.

Even Sasuke seemed to be packing up when I entered his office, without knocking because he had done the same with mine. He was up on his feet and gathering a stack of files he was most likely planning on taking home.

I walked into the room and unceremoniously threw the keys down on his desk; they slid over the polished wood and hit his hand. He glanced up, glared, before snatching them up and slipping them in his pocket.

I cleared my throat. "I want to write a letter to Konoha," I announced.

Appearing to have sorted through the mess in front of him, he straightened and raised an eyebrow. "And?" he prompted, somewhat impatiently.

I gritted my teeth. "Is that _possible_, Sasuke?" I snapped.

"Technically," he answered, vaguely. "Unless you intend to plan a terrorist move through it." Walking around the desk, the stack of files in his hand, he swiftly side-stepped me and moved past me. "And, of course, you have to know how to write."

My first reaction was to grab a manila envelope from the desk and whack him over the head with it—and, of course, I was unable to control it.

Sasuke turned to face me, his eyes narrowed in annoyance, and before I could even take a step back, he had grabbed me by the back of my neck and tugged me into him, leading me to the door. I squeezed my eyes shut and squeaked as he practically _threw_ me in the hallway, stopping for a moment to close the door behind him. I took the time to glare and straighten my clothes, as well as throw my hair over my shoulders in an annoyed fashion.

I could have caused a scene—but the problem was, I had something else I needed to talk to him about.

He could have cared less as he strolled past me without a single glance behind, though.

But I gritted my teeth and convinced myself that I could put up with _His Majesty the Ass_ for a good cause.

Taking a deep breath, I followed him down the stairs.

Outside, the paved streets were wet and the air was filled with the scent of rain. It was cooler than it had been in the morning, yet the wind was refreshing against my skin. With no regard to the weather, people were bustling about; some ended their day while others were only beginning it. Whatever their case, everybody was in a flurry of activity as the lights were, one by one, turned on, and the city began to catch color.

It occurred to me that this was the third time Sasuke and I walked down the streets together.

I wondered if people were under the impression that we actually got along. It was an amusing thought, to an extent.

Halfway into our journey, I cleared my throat.

"I also have a proposition for you," I announced.

Sasuke turned to glance at me over his shoulder, an eyebrow raised.

I took that as my cue to elaborate. "I stumbled across… some very good medical books in the library; I suppose they were Kabuto's. In any case, the knowledge there, combined with… my expertise and your country's climate… they could prove very helpful and very fruitful. Poisons, antidotes, antibiotics," I explained further upon seeing his somewhat confused expression. "You could have your own line of defense and attack in medicine. Of course, you'd have to extend the hospital, build another area specifically for that, but—"

"This is _stupid_ of you," he said, all of a sudden and out of nowhere, as he came to an abrupt stop.

I blinked up at him, my temper flaring. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me," he snapped. "I would have seen this coming from my thirteen-year-old _teammate_, but not from _you_, Sakura."

I glared. "Explain yourself, Uchiha!"

"You don't give that type of information and you don't make that type of offer to a village that isn't your own. Your mission here consisted of you bringing my medical system to an acceptable level—not giving me chances and options and ways of building lines of attack. You want to create something that could very well be used against you and your village in the future. You don't _do_ that, Sakura."

"Don't lecture me!" I hissed through gritted teeth, glaring viciously up at him. Exactly _who_ did he think he was? "Do you plan on betraying the alliance? Is _that_ what you're trying to tell me? Because you don't do _that_, Sasuke. _First_ of all. _Second_ of all, I've already considered everything you've just wasted your time telling me. You didn't see this coming because you don't _know_ me; you just _think_ you do. I accepted this mission because I was forced. But I came to terms with it because I knew I was doing something good for these people—these people who _deserve_ it. And because of that, I will give them what they need in order for someone to never be able to treat them or their children the way Orochimaru did. I will make sure they're fully aware of what they have and how they can use it to its full potential. This will _never_ happen to them again—not if I have something to say about it. And you know what? _You_ should have thought of that _first_!"

With that, I turned around and stalked away from him, angrier than I had been in a long, long time, while knowing, that if it hadn't been for my new resolve, I would have probably packed my bags and returned to Konoha that very same night.

* * *

_**A/N: **__This is for you, Sasuke! For seeing the light, baby. I love you! _

_Haha! Thank you for all your support!  
Keep the reviews coming, I love them! :)_


	32. Thirty One

**Sasuke's Point of View**

By the time I woke up the following morning, Sakura was already gone. That was not entirely a surprise, but I could practically _feel_ the pissed aura she had left behind—which, in turn, made _me_ even _more_ pissed.

The night before, my frustration levels hit the roof with her lack of self-preservation. It was stupid of me; after all, why did I even care whether she knew how to take care of herself or not? The fact that I obviously did annoyed me even more.

Sakura had always been _that_ type of person—growing attached without realizing; opening her heart without making an effort; forming plans to save people without it being her obligation, without her having to or needing to or even being _allowed_ to. Apparently, that part of her hadn't changed, and to a certain extent, I thought it was, once again, incredibly _stupid_ of me to think otherwise simply because she had a wilder temper and the behavior of a bitch. What she was—the very essence of her being—was a healer. It was just as impossible to change that as it was to change the fact that I was an Uchiha. I would continue to be an Uchiha, with everything that it entailed, for the rest of my life; whether I spent it all trying to change that wouldn't make the smallest difference.

As I lay in my bed that night, trying to sleep but not managing because my mind was filled with thoughts of her, I realized I saw her with different eyes. And I wondered, for what seemed to be the umpteenth time, when exactly she planned on stopping with the mood-swings. Every time I thought I had her down, she turned around and did something that threw me completely off balance. It was as if it was her favorite sport—and it was slowly but surely driving me insane.

I'd always imagined she wasn't the tough bitch she appeared to be when she was around me; I'd always known that there had to be something inside of her that fueled her passion for medicine, that made her want to save lives, that made her want to go beyond her obligations and do something simply because she could and because it would make someone feel happy and safe. Such things didn't disappear over night, but I'd thought she was hardened—by the world, by battle, by killing.

I was right.

But not as much as I thought I was. She was still so soft on the inside it was _ridiculous_.

It was also frustrating. When would she learn that she needed to stop placing her trust in everybody? When would she learn that, no matter how good her intentions were, not everybody would appreciate them? When would she learn that her true nature could be used to her disadvantage, that people could hurt her because of it? She'd been hiding it well, and that was perfect, because that was what a shinobi was supposed to do. Why had she decided to let it show? Because, sure, this time around, I was there. Otogakure was my country and I had no intention whatsoever of betraying any alliance or using whatever she decided to do against her. But what about the next time she thought she could help and actually went through with her plans? Would she be as lucky? I didn't know, and I didn't even _want_ to know. She shouldn't, either.

It was around noon that day, and I was in my office, when the door opened and, speaking of the devil, she came strolling in. She was dressed in a pair of jeans, a simple white top, and a green jacket; her hair was up in a messy ponytail, with her bangs falling in her eyes, and her feet were clad, as usual, in heels.

She held a white envelope in her hand, which she held in my reach as soon as she made it to my side. I knew what it was without needing to ask, but before I could grasp it, she flicked it up in her hand.

"Let me just get one thing straight," she said, looking at me in the eye. "If you dare to read this, Uchiha, I will hang you by the balls right from this very window for the entire village to see. Understood?"

I threw her a bland look and snatched the envelope from her grasp. "Why so nervous? Written about me?"

She scoffed, and with a roll of her eyes, turned around and stalked right out of my office.

My eyes moved from the door that had slammed closed behind her to the paper in my hand—twice.

Then I smirked, kicked my legs up on the desk in front of me, and ripped open the envelope.

It was about time I got a real insight into her mind.

The letter was long, two large pages filled with neat writing that, disturbingly enough, I realized I recognized. She used an informal style, more informal even than I expected, considering that I had been aware of the fact that there had to be a special type of relationship between Tsunade and Sakura. She asked about Naruto and Ino, about a woman named Shizune that I only vaguely remembered and about a child that had apparently been her patient before she left for Otogakure. She gave a mini-summary about what she had been doing in the hospital, what she had found and what she had solved, what she had yet to reach and what she planned. She broached the subject of patients and hinted that Tsunade should answer and speak of her own experiences.

All throughout my lecture, I could feel the longing pouring from her words. She missed her home—and it was no wonder. She missed her friends and her hospital; she missed her Hokage and her missions. I didn't blame her, because once upon a time, I'd known what the comfort of a home was and how it felt. And besides, Sakura had always been susceptible to such emotions.

My name was mentioned _once_ throughout the entire two pages worth of writing. It was to tell Tsunade that I had shown her into the library where she had found the books she was obviously so enthralled with. Truthfully, I had expected at least one complaint as to how much of an ass I was or how much harder I made her life to be, but there was none.

There was no time for me to focus on that, though, because the next paragraph captured my attention—and held it there, possibly, for the rest of the day.

It was the explanation I had been longing to find since the night before. Now that I finally had it in my hands, I found that I wanted to groan out loud for a million of reasons.

_I know it's a delicate situation, and I assure you I've spent quite some time contemplating it and its possible consequences. But, in the end, I came back to the words you once told me. Remember? You said that it was only on the battlefield that I was a shinobi first and a medic second, because that was my true nature, and it cannot be changed. I believe that with every fiber of my being—not because it's convenient, but because life has proven me, time and time again, that it's the truth. You taught me that for all the lives I took or that were taken in my name, I could do something good for someone else. I could do what very few others had the ability to do—I could heal. I could save. I could give hope. And that's exactly what I plan on doing. This is my chance and I will take it. And I'm sure you'll be proud of me regardless of what other implications you may find._

* * *

_**A/N:**__ Haha! I know some of you may be pissed with Sasuke for doing what he just did, but bear with him! He's frustrated, the poor baby. _

_Please review! _


	33. Thirty Two

**Sakura's Point of View**

I leaned against the wall of the Kage Tower, in the shade of a leafless tree, and closed my eyes, letting out a deep, even breath.

It was a beautiful October day in Otogakure, somewhat warm for the season, but I suspected that had very much to do with the fact that the sun was shining so brightly in the sky. Personally, I was feeling quite alright in my black dress and favorite pair of booties. The night before, I'd treated my hair with my favorite conditioner and even had time to apply my favorite body lotion; I smelled of vanilla and sugar for the first time in months, and I _loved_ it.

The hospital was silent; things were going well and my students were doing great. Finally, everything seemed to be on the right track to becoming exactly as it should and what it should in such an important institution; people had gotten used to the law and order I had laid down what seemed to be a lifetime ago, everybody knew their place, handled their job, and did what they were best at. I was quite proud of that.

The hospital wasn't what was worrying me at the moment, though.

It was the papers in my hand.

Glancing down at the thick, yellow envelope, I bit my lip. I'd stayed up all night, had been working since the day before, actually, thinking up a proposal for the new project that I came up with and that simply refused to leave my mind. It was quite the challenge, trying to be as brief and to the point as I needed while still offering as many advantages as I possibly could in a financially approachable way and in the best packaging my words could shape into. And I was nervous. I was freaking _nervous_ because, even though I knew I had managed to convey exactly how much of a great plan it was through my proposal, the one I had to present it to was _Sasuke_. And he hadn't been very happy when I first brought it up, two days before.

I wasn't sure if he was stupid enough to decline the proposal altogether or smart enough to read through it, reject it, and then have someone else pick it up. I wouldn't mind as much if it was the latter that happened, even if it _would_ piss me off quite badly, inevitably.

I _really_ wanted to do this. I wasn't sure I'd ever been as excited about another project as I was about this one—as I was, maybe, about Otogakure in general. Leaving aside the fact that Sasuke had ruined my entire perspective with his filthy presence, being there was a big deal for me—both as a person and as a kunoichi.

Tsunade had always taken care of including me in all of her schemes and that had been great, something for which I would forever be grateful. Together with Shizune, I practically ran the hospital back in Konoha, and I had also helped out in Suna a couple of times, but truly, getting Sasuke's medical system up to notch was my biggest job yet. Moreover, I was all alone in it, whereas all the other projects I had participated in had been under my mentor's tutelage and watchful eye. It was a testament of her faith in me, and at the same time, it was a testament of my growth and my strength.

It was also one of the many reasons why I couldn't botch it.

This felt different, though; taking over the hospital hadn't felt half as good as merely writing this proposal had. I didn't know why and I wasn't sure I could find out. It was something new, something else, something _good_. It was ridiculous if you took a moment to think about it, because possibly the best thing I could have done for these people at the current time had been to improve their hospital and bring it to the level it was at now, but this somehow felt more important to me, and I couldn't chase the feeling away no matter what I did or how much I tried.

_I was excited._

And if that bastard, Sasuke, was going to cut that short simply because he was a dickhead with a stick up his ass and an ego the size of Fire Country, I was going to get _really_ angry. The simple _thought_ of it made me angry, actually, which was why I decided to step aside, try to emotionally detach myself from the situation—as much as I could, in any case—and make sure I was in complete control before I entered his office.

While I was perfectly aware of the fact that my own short temper had very much to do with my current condition, I was also sure that Tsunade's influence had been what turned me into the person I now was, shaping every aspect and facet of my personality; but because my old mentor couldn't have cared less about her abrasive reactions, since she was Hokage and was practically allowed to beat up whoever she thought _deserved_ to be beaten up, she seemed to have failed to teach me how to calm down—she didn't need to worry about that, so how should she know? That was something I'd had to learn by myself.

Needless to say, my method wasn't always effective.

Taking another deep breath, I pushed off the wall and tried to reign in my emotions, sending positive energy through my body.

_No_, I told myself, I _would not_ punch him through the panoramic window if he looked at me with his trademark condescending smirk and said 'no' simply because he could. _I would not._

I still wasn't convinced as I made my way into the building and started towards the stairs.

But then I remembered that this was _Sasuke_, and if anybody deserved to be thrown through walls, that would be him. As hard and as often as possible.

It was with that thought in mind and attitude in my body that I opened the door and walked into his office, immediately raising an eyebrow at the sight I was met with—or rather, _wasn't_ met with.

He was somewhere behind his large desk—somewhere being a relative term because I couldn't exactly _see_ him due to the mountains of paperwork that had somehow managed to accumulate on top of the hard wood. Sasuke wasn't one to slack off, but apparently, his village had him busy. Served him right for all the extra paperwork he caused Tsunade for being stupid and a missing-nin.

I approached him, fighting a smirk, but not with all of my strength. Why would I use so much of my energy on him, after all?

As expected, he was sitting in his chair, reading over a rather thick document. I clicked my tongue, pushed a stack of files away and took half a seat on a corner of his desk. He never looked up or even acknowledged my presence, which made me assume he had long since become aware of it.

"It's such a shame," I said. "Someone like you, who spent his entire life running, training, struggling to become _stronger_… and you're confined here, between four walls, with no time on your hands and no opportunities to put to use any of the badass techniques you've learned and left everything behind for…"

In response, he simply glanced up at me, with only a hint of annoyance in his eyes. "It _is_ a shame," he admitted, and I almost frowned. "But it's not as unfortunate as you may think; unlike you, I don't need to train every day to keep in shape, Sakura."

I huffed a sarcastic breath. "Arrogance…" I titled my head back and mockingly pursed my lips in thought. "It may be what characterizes you best—aside from your traitorous tendencies, of course."

This time, when he looked at me, it was with a scowl etched on his features.

I resisted the urge to smirk.

"Well, since you love them so much, here's another document for you," I announced, before unceremoniously dropping the manila envelope in front of him, right on top of the papers he had been reading.

He raised an eyebrow. "What is this?"

Tendrils of nervousness began to tug at me as I answered, "I need your approval."

I did _not_ like the way his dark eyes lit up upon hearing that.

"For what?"

Hard as it was, I swallowed my pride for a good cause. Nowadays, they seemed to be the only things I could swallow it for. Of course, it was still ten times better than _other _people, who seemed to be unable to swallow it at all.

"For the project I told you about," I replied. "I'll go through with it. But I can't do it without your signature."

He seemed genuinely surprised that I was willing to go so far with and for it.

I wanted to punch him in the face.

Picking up the envelope, he turned it over in his hands with a thoughtful expression on his face. "So, what you're telling me… is that, in this envelope, I'll find something _you_ worked on that _I_ can either accept… or reject?"

Narrowing my eyes at his _stupid_, innocent tone and equally _stupid_, dark eyes, I slid from my perch upon his desk and bent down at the waist until I was at eye-level with him.

"Listen here, jerkface," I growled, with all the confidence I could muster, which wasn't hard at all, considering how angry I was, "If you think, even for a moment, that—"

Abruptly, I stopped. From the corner of my eye, I noticed something that caught my attention and held it—so strongly that my sentence was never completed. Instead, another conversation started.

"You _read_ my letter?!" I shrieked, and Sasuke visibly flinched—whether it was from the tone of my voice or because he was scared, I couldn't know, but I felt a pinch of satisfaction, nonetheless.

Reaching forward, I snatched the object in question from where it was peaking out of a larger stack of paperwork, sending the rest tumbling to the floor. I couldn't care less about the mess I caused, though, as I realized that the paper I was now holding in my hand, covered in my neat handwriting, was real—and not a figment of my imagination.

Angered beyond belief, I turned my gaze onto Sasuke. "_Explain_ yourself, Uchiha!"

With all the dignity I hated him for, Sasuke pushed his chair back, stood, and calmly ran his hands over the front of his black shirt, smoothing it down. I was practically _seething_ in front of him, and he gazed back at me with calm onyx orbs. Beautiful as they were (because I had to admit), they only made me want to punch him harder.

"It is my job as a Kage to ensure—"

"Ensure my _ass_!" I screamed, interrupting his otherwise very logical affirmation, pushing him back with the hand that still held my crumpled letter. "You did it on _purpose_!" I accused. "You did it to _spite_ me!"

The first splash of annoyance flashed across his eyes as he grabbed my hand and pushed it away.

Annoyed, I crumpled what was left of my violated correspondence and threw it to the side, uncaring of where it landed.

"I did not," he denied. "If I had, I would have found another way to let you know about it, trust me."

"You're such a fucker," I spat, furiously, bitterly, still trying to wrap my head around what he'd done, but having long since given up on trying to tame my (rapidly swirling out of control) anger.

Had I ever even tried? would be a suitable question. Had that ever been a priority for me when it came to this man? I didn't know, and that definitely wasn't the moment to find out.

"Have you never heard of respect? When are you going to learn that you're not entitled to everything?"

In response, Sasuke stepped forward, forcing me to tilt my head up so I could look at him. And then he did something that sent my blood boiling.

He fucking _smirked_.

He bent his knees so that he was at eye level with me, briefly, and _smirked_.

"The moment I will _stop_ being entitled to everything," he said, voice smooth and controlled.

My eyes narrowing in a vicious glare, I raised my arm, fully intent on punching him in the face, right then and there, regardless of the consequences, regardless of the fact that I was a stranger in his country. Regardless of all possible implications, I was finally going to punch Uchiha Sasuke into the following week, exactly as he deserved and exactly as I had been refraining from doing for so long, for a number of reasons, all different, depending on the circumstances, and all with their own sets of advantages and disadvantages.

But then something completely unexpected happened. In midst of my attack, he grabbed my wrist and, taking full advantage of the fact that I hadn't put as much chakra as I could have in my hit (considering I'd decided to leave his office intact), managed to dominate me, swinging me back and sending me crashing on top of his desk.

"What are you doing?!" I shrieked, unused to such treatment.

The shock, however, made it impossible for me to react in time. Suddenly, he was right above me, holding onto both of my wrists, keeping me down.

"_You_ are pissing me off," he started, enunciating every word clearly, as if he were talking to a stupid child, as if he wanted his message to be made perfectly clear.

Fuck that.

"Oh, really?" I laughed shortly, craning my neck upwards in defiance. "Well, what—"

I never got to finish my sentence because, as soon as I opened my mouth to speak, all of a sudden, my lips were busy. His mouth was on mine, moving feverishly. I gasped, and then his tongue was in my mouth, his grip on my wrists tightening even more, to an almost bruising degree.

For some reason or another, it never occurred to me to protest, every fiber of my being screaming at me to answer, to rise to the bait, to show him what I was made of.

So, I did.

Soon, his hands weren't on my wrists anymore. Instead, as his mouth ravished mine with a passion I hadn't seen him show outside of battle, they began to roam my body, running over my sides, pressing deeply into my hips, before going even lower, down my thighs, where he gripped the flesh tightly as I bit down on his lower lip in a sudden bout of fury and failed attempt at regaining control over the situation.

He growled deep in his throat at my action, a sound that, for an unknown reason, in present circumstances, made my head spin.

Much like the last time we had kissed, it was more of a battle than anything else. Every action he made was reciprocated by one of my own, and both of us fought for theirs to be rougher, more violent, harder to counter.

As he growled into my mouth, I buried one of my hands into his hair and fisted it tightly, pulling as hard as I could. Another growl was my response; his hand tightened on my leg, before beginning a journey up, under my dress, climbing slowly, yet sensually. My black thigh-highs ended a little up the middle of my thigh—then his skin was on mine without any barrier in between and the trails of heat he left behind were even more pronounced, making me squirm.

My heartbeat accelerated even further as his mouth continued to work its magic on mine and I struggled to keep up. I was starting to feel lightheaded; every hasty breath we took was fed off each other, neither of us wanting to give in or slip up even the slightest bit.

In the meantime, one of his hands continued its journey, higher and higher until it reached my lace panties and settled over my hip, holding me tightly.

In the back of my mind, I knew it was that the point of no return—the point beyond which this silly play would go much too far to be considered normal; the point beyond which everything would change.

As if in agreement, Sasuke suddenly pulled away from the kiss, sat up and, seeing as his other hand was entangled in my pink locks, pulled me with me, our bodies still close, faces apart just enough for me to be able to look into his eyes and realize, somehow, with the small part of my mind that was not too dazed, that I'd never seen as much fire in them.

For a moment, we simply gazed at one another, both of us panting slightly and with our lips red and swollen, until I could take it no more and opened my mouth to speak the words that, then unbeknownst to me, would change my entire life.

"You better be ready to finish what you started," I growled, the anger still present in my pleasure dulled senses—anger because he'd read my letter, anger because he'd touched me, anger because he'd kissed me, anger because he'd made it feel _good_.

But, in that moment, I had something to infuse my anger in. Managing it was out of the question; I was about to let it all out on the exact person that deserved it. Life was good.

Sasuke smirked, a lopsided type of smirk that I hadn't seen him wear before, a type of smirk that, to put it simply and quite honestly, made my panties drop—figuratively, of course.

He would have to take them off himself if that was what he had in mind.

"Heh," he huffed, and his onyx eyes seemed to go up in even harsher flames.

He made his next move, though this time he didn't go for my lips, but for my neck. Pulling at my hair once more, he angled my head so that it was on full display, completely vulnerable to him, and he buried his face in it, biting right at my pulse.

I couldn't help the moan that escaped my mouth.

In response, I grabbed both sides of his shirt and pulled, sending buttons flying left and right. But, unlike the time before, I didn't stop. I went all the way down and ripped it from his shoulders, before flattening my palms against his warm, soft skin, feeling every ripple of hard muscle underneath.

I had to work hard to suppress _another_ moan that threatened to leave my lips at the sensation, but I managed.

The hand that wasn't gripping my hair escaped from under my dress and crawled up my back, leaving a trail of fire behind and tugging at the buttons that kept my dress together once it reached its destination; they gave way under his strength, falling to the floor, the material easily ripping apart. He seemed to quickly realize that wouldn't be enough for it to fall off me, and with a muted growl of frustration, took the initiative again.

Everything seemed to move in a frenzied daze after that. Every one of his actions and touches as well as my own counterparts seemed to meld into one, creating sensations that were higher than the both of us and unlike anything I had ever felt. They clouded my judgement, took me to the sky and back only to lift me up again. His hands in my hair, his mouth on my throat, on top of my breasts, on my lips again. His tongue in my mouth. His hand over my dress, beneath it, over my thigh-highs and beyond. His fist in my panties, the lace easily giving apart under his strong hold. The strangled moan that left my mouth the moment he forcefully ripped them off my body, leaving angry red welts behind.

I didn't know if I was being myself anymore or it that was who I truly was, the very essence of my being. The anger that had been pulsing through my veins only moments before, commanding my every action and censuring my every thought, had dissipated, giving way to lust—lust that made more sense than anything seemed to have ever made in my entire world and life.

I didn't know if Sasuke felt the same, and I honestly couldn't bring myself to care about anything more than the sensations in my own body.

His head buried in the crook of my neck, sucking harshly on a spot that made me squirm, right below my collarbone, I moved my hands down his chest, my nails scratching at his skin while my lips pulled into a smirk, delighted by the shivers that ran through him with the action. Grabbing his pants, I abruptly pulled him even closer to me, almost losing my mind because of the body heat he emanated, his so much more potent scent, and the delicious sensations his naked chest sliding against my clothed one caused.

Before I was completely gone, though, I managed to hastily undo his pants.

In a sudden, desperate movement, his arm moved behind me, sweeping every file to the floor before wrapping tightly around my waist and properly hosting me up onto the desk, my body a rag doll on his hands, because when I could barely make sense of what I was feeling, it was hard to have control over my limbs.

His hot breath fanned against the sensitive skin of my neck in rapid succession, proving the effect he had on me was reciprocated.

Our frenzied touches and movements seemed to drive us both crazy, the office filled with the sound of our pants, moans, grunts, and harsh breaths. Had someone asked for my name in that very moment, I wasn't sure I would have known it.

Then, in a sudden movement that I did not expect and not see coming in any way, he was inside me—and every question and every process of even beginning to sort out my thoughts was lost, broken, interrupted and never to be picked up again, completely drowned in the sensations that attacked me.

I screamed, throwing my head back. My arms seemed to give out from underneath me, and without him holding onto me, I fell roughly down on the desk.

I didn't need to open my eyes to see his smirk.

He began to move, slowly at first, and I didn't know if he was trying to prolong the sweet torture for me or to gather his own bearings while doing so.

I couldn't even begin to think about that.

My jaw slack, my mouth dropped open, my brain unable to understand or process or even _name_ the sensations that he was awakening inside of me with each stroke, each thrust, each and every perfect way in which his body fitted mine.

It had _never_ felt like this before.

It was as if he was made for me, as cheesy as that might sound in a such lust filled moment, as if his body was made to meld to mine in such a way that there wasn't a single spot he didn't touch. A couple of seconds and a crazy decision, a touch sparked by anger and lust—and he was making me feel things I'd never felt before, bursting through my carefully built walls and tearing my guard down unlike any way it had ever been torn down before.

A sudden hard thrust had me screaming and sinking my nails into the skin of his arm, my eyes wide.

Sasuke smirked and leaned over me, stopping completely for a moment as he breathed in my ear.

"You like that, huh?" he said. "Never been fucked like this, have you?"

Gritting my teeth, I wasn't about to be put down by him. Moving my head to whisper in his own ear, I hissed, "I've had better."

Whether my words had the desired effect on him or not, I couldn't care less, because with another smirk, he gripped my hips tightly and began to move—no, he began to _pound_ into me with abandon and no mercy and _that_ was what I needed, what the moment asked for and what fitted us best.

My relationship with Sasuke was complicated, a mix between witty conversations and quickly rising tempers, between pain filled pasts and anger filled presents, between resentments and admiration, between everything he made me feel on a daily basis and the emotional detachment I'd always hoped I could have when it came to him, between all the ways I wished I could make him suffer and all the ways I wished he'd never had, between the desire to have never met him and the knowledge that he'd been the one to make me strong, between the irresistible pull he had on me and the distance I'd want to place between us just to put that fire out.

With so many contradictions, it was hard to find something to define us other than, maybe, the word 'messy'.

Crazy, hot, animalistic sex seemed to be a much better option now that we'd tried it.

His body was leaning over mine, the heat he shared amazing, while his hands alternated between holding tight onto my hips or thighs. My own hands pulled at his hair or scratched at his neck, my back arching and my chest brushing against his.

I _hated_ my dress in that moment. I hated every piece of clothing that was still in our way.

Still, it was the closest we'd ever been.

His grunts filled my ears as he pounded me into a type of total submission and complete surrender that I had no idea could possibly feel so good, but they were barely audible over my own loud moans and the occasional scream that I couldn't hold in, no matter how much I tried.

"Is that all you've got?" I challenged in a moment of partial clarity, dragging my heels over the back of his legs in my path to wrap my own around his hips.

He hissed in my ear at the sensation and gripped my hair with a sudden ferocity, growling. "You can talk, still?" he said, just a hint of tease in his voice, the rest all huskiness and pure sex.

I grinned and opened my mouth to speak, but the only sound that came out was a drowned yell as he thrust harder into me, hitting a spot that made me see stars.

He was smirking when my vision refocused, but I didn't have time to think of another snarky reply.

I had no idea when my climax crept up on me, but it hit me full force in the moment, with just another powerful thrust from his part to set it off. I saw blinding white again, unable to do anything else but throw my head back, arch my body, and dig my nails into the skin of his back so hard I felt it tear beneath my fingertips.

Sasuke groaned from above me and, caught up in my own pleasure, I didn't realize he was joining me in euphoria until he slammed a hand right beside my head, crumpling a stray piece of paper that had somehow kept its place on the desk. He thrust inside me one last time and then stilled with a muted growl.

My body forcefully relaxed under his as I struggled to catch my breath and get my neurons to function again so they could figure out exactly what had happened and what I was supposed to do next. They were there. I was aware of what I'd done. I'd never lost track of where I was or who was with me—or, rather, in me. But they refused to work together, just like they'd refused to let me stop this in time.

Sasuke regained control before I did. Apparently, for him, there was no reason why things should be difficult.

"How about this?" he whispered in my ear, still panting, though his heart-rate seemed to have calmed faster than mine. "I approve your little project. You forget I ever read your letter, and write another."

"Which you will _not_ read," I countered firmly.

"Deal," he agreed, pulling back to gaze at me.

One glance at his _stupid_ onyx eyes, and I expected my anger to return. But it didn't.

"Fine," I spat, glaring at him. "Now get the fuck off."

* * *

_**A/N:**__ Well, this may not come as a surprise, but I have to say I struggled quite a bit with this update! I debated how everything would go and whether I should write a full lemon, considering that's practically against the rules… but I've seen many authors do the same, and the truth is that I can't just avoid them when it comes to this particular story. I tried to keep everything as less detailed as possible, while still conveying the right emotions… I hope it worked. Let me know?_

_Forgive me for the long wait, the next chapter will be out much sooner! _


	34. Thirty Three

**Sasuke's Point of View**

That evening, I was laid out on the couch, in my living room, with a bunch of papers on the coffee table and a thick file in my hand, lying to myself and to the world around me that I had brought them home to look over them.

I _had_ brought them home for that reason. But I had known, all along, that I had no chance whatsoever of doing it while my mind was filled with… _pink_. It had been filled to the brim with it for the entire time I had been in my office that day, and saying that I hadn't known that wasn't about to change even when I arrived home would be a lie, because what sense would that make, in any case? She was all over the place. Personal space my ass. There was something of hers in every single room now.

Minus mine.

…But we could remedy that.

I wanted to punch myself in the face the moment that thought crossed my mind. But what was I to do?

I had no idea what had come over me, what sort of dangerous demon had possessed me, when I had leaned down and pressed my lips to hers, initiating an action that should have never been shared between us again, and yet, at the same time, putting out a fire that had been burning inside me ever since our lips had touched for the first time. It was that kiss which had sent everything spiraling out of control, and, looking back, maybe it would be normal for me to say I would have preferred it had never happened and I had been punched instead. But the situation wasn't as simple, because doing that would equal to lying to myself. I didn't regret what had happened. I should, without a doubt. But I didn't.

I'd leaned in and kissed her because I'd _wanted_ to. As far as conscious decisions went, that sure as hell hadn't been one, but a part of me, hidden somewhere deep inside my brain, had wanted to kiss her even in that moment, and any other, when she was being so damn infuriating, and there was no way or reason I would deny that.

That I hadn't counted on it going that far was a different story entirely. I could always find comfort in the fact that _she_ had been the one to cross the line and then challenge me to do the same, though.

To be perfectly honest, I myself had also been unsure of how much longer I could hold onto my self-control. There was just something about her that I couldn't name or place, but she drove me crazy and made me snap, and while such reactions I had strived all my life to suppress, I found that I didn't mind them as much when it came to dealing with Sakura—because they were the only way I could keep up.

Now, I had slept with women before and I was fully aware of how much of a good method of release it was. That was why I had sex, in the first place; no other reason.

Sex with Sakura, however, was in an entirely different league—not because it felt amazingly good, even though I had to admit it did, but more because it was, hands down and without a doubt, a _battle._ It provided the very same adrenaline a training spar did, almost, and that was something I had never felt before. What was true, it was also because it seemed to be the only time Sakura would shut her snarky mouth, at last partially, and the only way I could gain the upper hand, quickly and effortlessly, without having her flip me over when I least expected it.

It was an experience I'd never forget, that was for sure.

The frilly lace panties she'd left in my office and that were now safe in a locked drawer were proof of that.

And when it was all over and I'd looked at her in the eye, I'd known. This was something neither of us would ever bring up again. It was a manifestation of our frustrations and anger with one another, an expression of our wild tempers and a product of the circumstances. It was something neither of us was exceptionally proud of or wanted to sort out or talk about.

What more could a man ask out of an, admittedly very satisfying, one-night-stand, right?

Turned out, I kind of wanted to see something from _her_—anything.

Seemingly in tune with my train of thought, Sakura strolled into the living room—and ignored me completely. It was obvious she was heading out somewhere, because she was wearing a tight black dress that showed more cleavage than could possibly be necessary and wearing heavy make-up, her pink hair falling over her shoulders in well-defined curls, full of shine and volume.

I wanted to keep her out of my head, but with the way her ass looked, that was shaping up to be a challenge.

I narrowed my eyes as she went about her way, heading into the kitchen, pouring herself a glass of water, leaning against the counter to drink it, and all of the while continued to ignore me.

She always did, of course, and when she took notice of me it was to gush out venom, but in that moment, even that would have been better than complete and utter silence.

It wasn't an awkward silence. An awkward silence would have been _good_. It was the type of silence that spread between us when we weren't fighting. The silence of nothingness. We had nothing in common and Sakura knew it. She didn't try to dig deeper or prove that, in fact, we did, or do anything at all to remedy that—not anymore. And, apparently, that bothered me.

She wasn't flustered. She didn't feel awkward around me because of what had happened between us. No, she simply didn't give a damn. Not _one_. Not even enough to have the decency to blush when she looked at me in the eye.

Scowling, I continued to watch as she spilled the remaining water in the sink and walked into the hallway to slip her coat on, keeping my gaze firmly planted on her figure, hoping that maybe that way she would notice—that way she would call me out on ogling her.

No.

Nothing.

Her heels clicked on the floor as she stepped into the foyer and then the door slid shut behind her.

I turned my gaze back to the papers in my hands, annoyed.

What was _wrong_ with this infuriating woman? I understood that she ignored the fact that we'd kissed. It had meant _nothing_. That we'd taken it even further meant nothing, still—but it was _more_, nonetheless. It was more than a kiss. It had more implications, longer lasting consequences. It was completely different, despite being part of the same category of acts that we should have never initiated between us. Did the fact that she acted as if nothing had happened mean that she had sex with every man who pissed her off and then passed it off as unimportant? Was _that_ what I was supposed to understand? Was _that_ the message she was trying to send me?

No. It wasn't. And the reason why it wasn't, I realized, was because she wasn't trying to send my a message, in the first place. My thoughts, my feelings, and my entire personal life, for that matter, were not her problem anymore. I wasn't on her mind.

Perhaps I wouldn't have been as bothered by that knowledge if she wasn't on mine.

Sakura didn't hate me, that was for sure. I _knew_ hate. When you hate somebody, your entire life is centered on them, and that was most definitely not the case with Sakura. She simply and genuinely didn't care. She didn't care whether _I_ cared that I kissed her or that I had sex with her or that I liked it or that I didn't or that I kept my gaze on her ass and fantasized about it or that I didn't. She hadn't used a single line in her letter to dedicate to me; she hadn't wasted a single drop of ink to curse me or even to mention me in a context that was entirely mine. Except for when we were fighting—or, well, having sex—she didn't waste an ounce of her energy on me.

It was… annoying—all of it; her lack of interest, my lack of place in her life, her stupid behavior and the fact that, for the first time, I actually wanted it to change. I wanted her to treat me differently. I wanted her to _see_ me.

What she made me feel, beside the anger and the frustration, was something I hadn't felt since the days my father was alive and I was constantly chasing after his half-assed recognition, when nothing I ever did was enough to hold his attention and nothing he ever did included me. It wasn't pleasant.

And the fact that I never managed to change that was not, by any means, a thought that escaped me.


End file.
